


I'll Never Love Another

by Lolo (TheLittleLo)



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: (like wow I did almost ZERO research), Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Historical Inaccuracy, I also did not plan for using food during sex to be a recurring theme..., I did not set out for this fic to have Dom/sub elements, Longing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Prince!Yusuf, Prince/Knight, also it is SWITCH CITY over here, author works out her own father issues by making everyone's dad a giant dick, blatant disregard for historical accuracy, but here we are., knight!nicolo, letter writing, like SO MANY LETTERS, no one has great dads...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 70,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29619117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleLo/pseuds/Lolo
Summary: Prince Yusuf al-Kaysani and Sir Nicolò di Genova met when they were young men, still foolish about love in the ways that young men are. When they fell in love, they fell hard and fast. What began as dreams for what their lives might hold together were they not bound to their own contrasting obligations, soon flourishes into a love affair that spans 14 years, a broken betrothal, clandestine meetings and a war that threatens to tear them apart forever.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 279
Kudos: 175
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	1. It Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey hey!!!!
> 
> Here it is.... I wrote this 70k behemoth in 6 weeks cause I'm a masochist, apparently.
> 
> Beta read by Isa [(yogurtfordinner)](https://yogurtfordinner.tumblr.com/) who is my absolute savior, and I love her!
> 
> The beautiful art you will see just below the title is by the lovely [SumArtDesigns](https://twitter.com/sumartdesigns) who swooped in at the last minute to save me (my knight in shinning armor- how apt)
> 
> Special thanks to Kiaya, Ashley and Annie (heelipabo) who kept me sane and read random snippets of letters and sex scenes with zero context like the absolute champs that they are!!
> 
> **Couple of things to note:**  
>  This takes place in an alternate universe that just HAPPENS to look a lot like 1400s Earth.  
> Mostly for aesthetic reasons, but also there is sometimes a lot of time passing between scenes and letters and assigning dates to everything was important.
> 
> To that end, please note that historical accuracy is the last thing I am worried about in this. I have essentially kept aesthetic things and the general technology level the same. Everything else, including historical events and figures were just completely ignored.  
>    
> Related- Homophobia?? I don’t know her. Being gay is not an issue in this world.
> 
> Yusuf and Nicolò meet when they are 19 and 16, nothing sexual happens until they are both over 18, BUT I just thought I would be upfront about that.
> 
> Alright... I think that's it???  
> Enjoy <3  
> 

Prince Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani of Tunisia was a spirited child. His parents and nurses were forever losing track of him only to find him hours later, asleep in a tree or swimming in the river. 

As he grew, Yusuf too noticed his own propensity for action over sitting still. He wanted to run and explore and learn about the world through experiencing it first hand. He didn’t want to sit in a stuffy room all day and listen to his teachers drone on about the history of his country and people. He wanted to be out among the people, seeing history unfold before his eyes.

Yusuf’s father Ibrahim, the King of Tunisia, shared his son’s adventurous spirit and traveled the world making alliances and trade deals. On one such voyage he befriended another king from across the sea, Henry of the house Le Livre. The two had been friends for years when Henry suggested Ibrahim send a then fourteen year old Yusuf to be fostered in France with Henry’s son Sébastien.

The five years Yusuf spent in France were some of the happiest of his life and Sébastien became a close friend and brother.

When Yusuf was nineteen, Sébastien’s father hosted a delegation of nobles from Genova in Paris. Among them was a young squire named Nicolò, who was traveling with his father, a famous knight. Yusuf was immediately taken with him.

Though Nicolò was three years younger than Yusuf and almost five years younger than Sébastien, the three young men became fast friends. They were often excluded from important meetings and left to wander the grounds and gardens on their own. They were in different stages of their rapid transition into adulthood, but none of them quite felt like they were wholly boy nor man, stradling that line with much confusion and folly.

The six months Nicolò was at court changed everything. He felt a connection with Nicolò he could not quantify; a magnetism that drew him to the serious young squire. Nicolò seemed indifferent to his initial advances and Yusuf eventually learned to keep his attraction to his friend in check.

Then, on the day the Genoese were set to leave, Nicolò kissed him and Yusuf's entire world shifted.


	2. Vows and Farewells

Yusuf didn’t expect to see Nicolò that day. They had said their goodbyes the evening before, all three of them. The Genoese party was meant to leave before dawn. When Yusuf argued for the chance to see them off in the morning Nicolò had laughed and said he’d rather remember Yusuf at his best, not the grumpy Yusuf who hated early mornings. 

Yusuf’s own time at the French court was rapidly drawing to a close, and he was meant to be breaking his fast with Sebastien and the king. He was almost there when Nicolò appeared, seemingly from nowhere, and pushed Yusuf out a side door and into the gardens.

Yusuf laughed at the welcome surprise. Nicolò grabbed his hand and led him away from the building.

“Nicolò, what are you still doing here?” Yusuf asked. “Won’t your father be missing you?”

“Carriages move slowly, I’ll catch up,” Nicolò said. He pulled Yusuf into one of the many hedge mazes on the grounds.

“Did you forget something in this labyrinth?” Yusuf asked, not bothering to hide the mirth in his voice. He thought he might never see Nicolò again. To be led by the hand by him again was beyond what Yusuf had ever hoped for.

“No. I just need-” Nicolò paused as he pulled Yusuf around a corner and turned to face him. “I just needed to be somewhere private.”

Yusuf finally noticed how serious Nicolò looked. The squire was certainly known to be the most stoic of their trio, but if Yusuf wasn’t mistaken he looked worried or even scared.

“What’s wrong?” Yusuf asked.

Nicolò looked at Yusuf for a moment before turning and beginning to pace in front of him.

“Whatever it is I’m sure we can figure it out, Nicolò.”

“I should have said something sooner.”

“What should you have said?” Yusuf asked. He reached out tentatively for his friend.

Nicolò stopped dead in his tracks when Yusuf’s hand gently touched his shoulder. He looked at the hand for a long moment, before sighing and looking up at Yusuf with a pained expression.

“I shouldn’t have come back. I missed my chance and I have to live with that now.”

Nicolò started to walk back the way they had come, but Yusuf tightened his grip, staying his retreat. Nicolò stared up at the sky for a moment, eyes closed. He looked like he was sending a prayer up to heaven.

“You’re scaring me,” Yusuf said. “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s wrong.”

Nicolò opened his eyes, still fixed on the sky, and said something under his breath that Yusuf couldn’t make out. He was about to ask what was bothering him again when Nicolò swiftly turned around to grab the front of Yusuf’s shirt, and kissed him.

Yusuf was shocked for a moment, but then Nicolò broke away from the kiss and he couldn’t help but chase the lost contact. Nicolò evaded him though and stopped back.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Nicolò said, once again turning to leave.

“Wait-” Yusuf started, desperately trying to catch up with what had just happened. “Just- just give me a moment.”

Yusuf had of course thought of Nicolò often during their time together at court, but he had seemed rather indifferent to Yusuf’s initial attempts at flirting so he had tried his best to ignore the attraction he felt. Now though, with Nicolò staring back at him with worried but hopeful eyes, Yusuf felt the months of restraint fade away in an instant.

Yusuf stepped up to Nicolò and reached a hand up to cup his cheek. Nicolò’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into the contact. He let his thumb trace Nicolò’s bottom lip, and when his lips parted slightly with a soft gasp, Yusuf dragged his thumb down, taking Nicolò’s lip with it. His mouth opened readily.

Nicolò let out a ragged sigh and opened his eyes. He trembled under Yusuf’s hand, which only intensified when he stuck the tip of his thumb between Nicolò’s teeth. The way he was shaking like a leaf didn’t stop him from darting his tongue against the pad of Yusuf’s thumb though, and then it was his turn to try in vain to suppress a shiver.

All of Nicolò was laid out before Yusuf. What he’d been denying himself for months was suddenly within his grasp yet he couldn’t bring himself to move beyond the simple thrill of touching Nicolò’s lips.

Nicolò took another shaky breath.

Yusuf tore his eyes away from his lips and focused on his eyes. They were wide and so little of the blue-green remained that they were nearly black.

He grabbed Nicolò’s hip and threaded the other hand into his hair. How long had he yearned for the feeling of his hair between his fingers? How many nights had he dreamed of burying his face in the hair at the back of Nicolò's neck while he rutted against his bed, desperate for the real thing? A groan emanated unbidden from Yusuf's chest.

Nicolò was taking impossibly slow and deep breaths, and he shook with increasing lust with each one. When Yusuf leaned in and pressed his lips to Nicolò’s, his breathing stopped altogether.

Their first kiss had been brief and marred by Nicolò’s desperation. Yusuf was determined to make their second one something to remember.

Gently as he could, Yusuf kissed Nicolò twice before pulling back and tilting his head the opposite direction and kissing him again. All the while Nicolò’s breathing had gone completely erratic.

Yusuf licked at Nicolò’s mouth, which opened with a sigh. The feeling of their tongues timidly pressing against each other brought another groan up from somewhere deep within Yusuf. 

The restraint shattered between them and suddenly Nicolò was crowding Yusuf back into a hedge, hands grasping at his back. Yusuf leaned against the branches, nearly falling into the shrub, but Nicolò’s strong arms kept him from falling.

Suddenly everything was wild and desperate. Yusuf couldn’t keep his hands still, he wanted to touch all of Nicolò at once. His back, his neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms, which were still tense as they held Yusuf back from falling backwards. Nicolò kissed his lips, then his cheek, and then bit lightly at his jaw, before continuing to pepper kisses on the underside of his chin and down his neck. 

Just when Yusuf was about to complain about the loss of Nicolò’s lips on his own, they were back. They shared several open mouthed kisses, gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths.

“How long do you have?” Yusuf asked when he finally needed to pull back for air.

“Minutes. I’m already pushing my luck.”

Yusuf felt a small flutter of panic in his chest. Why hadn’t he pursued this sooner? He was suddenly aware that his time with Nicolò was impossibly short and he pressed another harsh kiss to his lips before wrapping his arms around Nicolò’s shoulders and pulling his body against his own. Nicolò’s hands slowly found their way to the small of Yusuf’s back. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nicolò asked, burying his face in Yusuf’s shoulder.

“Why didn’t  _ you _ ?” 

“I’m the youngest son of a family that, while technically noble, has little to its name beyond a reputation for producing good swordsmen.” 

The,  _ because you’re a prince and we can’t be together,  _ went unsaid but Yusuf felt it hang in the air around them.

“I’ll think of something, I spent so long wishing for this, I can’t lose it now,” Yusuf vowed.

Nicolò nodded into Yusuf’s shoulder before starting to pull away.

“Wait,” Yusuf said, feeling the sting of panic in his chest once more.

“I have to go,” Nicolò said. His eyes were glistening as he took a step back.

“I can’t- I can’t lose you,” Yusuf said, panic fueling his words. “I love you. I’ll never love another.”

Nicolò laughed lightly and closed his eyes. A tear fell and ran down his cheek.

“Don’t make vows you can’t keep, Yusuf,” Nicolò said. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and took another step back. “It will take us a month to make the trip back to Genova, if you still feel then as you do now, write to me.”

Nicolò grabbed Yusuf’s hand and kissed the back of it lightly. Then he was gone.

Yusuf stood frozen in the middle of the hedge maze for a long time after Nicolò left.

His mind was spinning and Yusuf realized he had brought his hand to his mouth. His fingertips just barely brushed his bottom lip and tried in vain to chase the tingling feeling Nicolò had left there as it slowly faded away.

One month. He could wait a month before writing to Nicolò. 

He remained convinced of his vow, though. The moment Nicolò had kissed him he knew he was lost. He loved Nicolò, and he would never love another.


	3. A Month? A Lifetime.

The first of August would surely become Yusuf’s favorite day of the year. That wonderful day when Nicolò had given him everything.

After Nicolò left him standing in the gardens Yusuf did not move for a long time, frozen in the middle of that labyrinth, fingertips still touching his lower lip. He replayed the moment over and over again in his mind, unable to believe it was real. 

He did not make it to his morning meal with Sébastien and the king, going instead to his room. He had been pacing for hours when Sébastien startled him from his thoughts.

“We missed you at breakfast,” Sébastien said, leaning his shoulder against the door.

“How long have you been standing there?” Yusuf demanded.

“Not long.”

“Give my apologies to your father.”

“I already did. I had a feeling you might not make it today,” Sébastien said. He looked like he was keeping a secret.

Yusuf shook his head and smiled.

“Are you a clairvoyant now?” He asked.

“No, just observant.”

Sébastien gave him a small smile and left him alone in his room, confused.

Yusuf would have never called himself a morose person, and most people who knew him would certainly not have described him that way. He was loud and opinionated, always the center of attention. No, he was not unhappy in his life.

What he was was restless.

Long before he came to France -for as long as he could remember if he was being honest with himself- Yusuf had longed to be out in the world. Perhaps that was what had attracted him so immediately to Nicolò when they first met. This squire who was three years his junior had seen more of the world in the previous year than Yusuf had in his entire life.

Nicolò had already seen battle, he’d even alluded that he had taken a life. He came from a noble family that was comfortable, though not rich by any means, but he seemed free.

Almost as soon as he met Nicolò, Yusuf became convinced he was the smartest person he had ever met. While it was true that he did not always know the random facts that Yusuf’s tutors had crammed into his head, he remembered everything. Yusuf spent many a night teaching Nicolò about stars and constellations and it took all of 3 nights for Nicolò to start correcting him on mistakes he made.

Aside from his ability to remember facts, Nicolò was observant and clever. He matched wits with people who were far above his station, and he was a master at saying just the right thing so as not to cross lines while still making his opinions heard. It was a skill Yusuf was sure could not be taught.

The month long wait to finally write to Nicolò passed slowly, it seemed to stretch out forever. Every day Yusuf would wake up thinking of Nicolò and every night he would collapse into his bed, imagining Nicolò’s hands instead of his own, which in truth was not very different from when Nicolò had still been there. Now though, Yusuf had to suffer through the day without Nicolò’s company.

It was torturous, thanks in large part to the fact that Yusuf was quite certain he could never tell another soul. Yusuf was under no delusions about his situation. He was the crown prince and heir to the throne of a sovereign nation. The chances of him being given leave to marry Nicolò were practically nonexistent and telling anyone else of his feelings for the squire would surely lead to them being separated indefinitely. So Yusuf suffered in silence.

Three weeks after Nicolò left, however, Sébastien shattered Yusuf’s illusion of secrecy. 

They were in the stables, having just returned from a ride. Their horses were being led away and Yusuf was removing his gloves. It was the height of summer and the heat was overbearing, both young men had sweat through their clothes.

“Care for a swim?” Sébastien asked, beginning to unbutton his doublet.

“I detest swimming,” Yusuf said incredulously. 

Yusuf was taken aback by the request. Sébastien knew him better than anyone, they had shared nearly every day together for the previous five years.

“Well I wasn’t sure if you’d changed your tune,” Sébastien said. He didn’t stop focusing on his quest to rid himself of his thick outer shirt. He didn’t even lift his eyes to look at Yusuf when he added, “I suppose it’s the company.”

“You’re hinting at something, Sébastien, but I am not sure that I catch your meaning.”

“I wonder if Nicolò would be interested to learn you  _ detest  _ swimming.” Sébastien finally met Yusuf’s eyes, a small smile on his lips. “Certainly he would be surprised, considering you two have spent more time in the water than out while he was here.”

Yusuf stood in shock for a moment before letting out a sigh.

“Perhaps I just enjoy his company more than yours?” Yusuf said, needlessly defensive given how obviously Sébastien was making his accusations.

Sébastien let out a loud deep laugh. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”

Yusuf dared not elaborate until he was absolutely sure what Sébastien knew. He longed to have someone to confide in, but he had to be sure. This was all so new and he couldn’t stand the thought of it being snuffed out before he and Nicolò even had a chance.

“You were pretty good at hiding it when Nicolò was here,” Sébastien said, “but you’ve practically shut down since he left, though.”

“We-” Yusuf started. He wasn’t sure whether he should feel triumphant or foolish, “we never- I wasn’t hiding anything. He only told me how he felt the morning he left.”

“Huh,” Sébastien said. He was obviously surprised, but he didn’t appear to think Yusuf was lying to him. “I was sure you had been sneaking around for months.”

“Was it that obvious?” Yusuf asked.

“I’ve spent half a year watching you orbit each other, I am far from surprised,” Sébastien replied.

“I wasn’t sure of his feelings until he told me, surely you didn’t see what I could not.”

“You are an open book, my friend, anyone with eyes could see the way you looked at him,” Sébastien said playfully gesturing toward Yusuf. “Nicolò is Nicolò though, he was harder to read.”

Yusuf wanted to say,  _ not for me,  _ even though he knew it was a lie. Maybe someday. The truth was, even with the words of Nicolò’s confession swimming around in his mind he could scarcely believe they were real. He wondered if Nicolò had truly thought through what it would be like to try and love him.

August finally drew to a close, and with it Yusuf’s vigil. 

On his last night in Paris he sat at the desk that had been his for five years. Guards sent by his father to see him home safely had arrived the day before. 

There were a million reasons he should be apprehensive about going back to Tunis, about leaving the home he’d known for nearly a third of his life. Instead, the thing that had been keeping him up at night for days on end was the thought of finally writing to Nicolò.

However, all that planning fled his mind when faced with the prospect of putting ink to paper. He dated the letter and suddenly his mind was blank, paralyzed with the weight of what this letter could mean. What it could be the start of- or more frighteningly the end of.

Nicolò was everything Yusuf was sure he could not live without. He was indomitable and immoveable, fierce and unwavering, thoughtful and astute. How then, was Yusuf to offer so little in return and expect this complex and intelligent soldier to want him in return for nothing? Yusuf couldn’t promise him a life together, he had no say in his marriage prospects. He couldn’t even guarantee when or even if they would be able to see each other again.

Yusuf knew he was spoiled, and he had spent his entire childhood being told he was too wild for his own good. He spent more time daydreaming and reading than doing anything useful.

Yusuf was only a man.

Nicolò was the moon. Beautiful and enigmatic. He shone so bright in the black sky that was Yusuf’s life, and what did the moon need a frivolous prince for?

Surely the light cast off of Nicolò was for someone though, and why not for Yusuf? If the moon told him that he lit up the night sky only to guide Yusuf’s feet, then who was he to resist such an act of love? All he could do was accept the cool glow and pray that he never saw the night when his life was returned to desolate darkness.

He took a long, calming breath and dipped his quill before carefully writing out the salutation.

_ My Dear Nicolò, _


	4. 1436 -1437

_ August 29th 1436 _

_ My Dear Nicolò, _

_ I must say first and foremost that my feelings have not changed. I pray that yours haven’t either. _

_ In truth I have thought of little else since you left me in that hedge maze and have spent most of my time in that garden over the last month. I miss you terribly. I had you by my side every day for half a year and I am ashamed to say I took it for granted. What I wouldn’t give to go back and take advantage of the time we had together. _

_ Something to look forward to for when next we see each other.  _

_ We will be traveling through Nice on our way home, just close enough to Genova to make me almost think to beg that we could detour. If I thought I could get the chance to see you again I would move mountains… But last I heard you were moving on to Rome soon. _

_ Next time. _

_ Please know that my thoughts remain with you and of you, day and night. I look forward to hearing from you soon. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

October 22nd 1436

Yusuf,

You cannot know the way it felt to finally receive your letter.

It is true that I was sent to Rome not long after arriving home and have only just returned to Genova to find your letter waiting for me.

I too have thought of little else since our last meeting. I have thought of your lips on mine and dreamt of any number of ways I might be able to press them together once again.

My father has become increasingly frustrated with what he calls my ‘split attentions.’ I deny the accusations of course, but I do not think he believes me.

In truth, more than once I have looked out over the sea imagining that if I could only see a little further I could spy you in Tunis.

At night I gaze up at the stars committing everything you taught me to memory- the names of the constellations, and the stories they hold. I do not think the world held any beauty for me until you opened my eyes to it.

Now that I am home in Genova, I find whatever time I can to walk through the harbor and watch ships leave for many destinations. More than once I have happened upon a ship with your crest flying proudly on the wind. How easy it would be for me to board one of those ships and come to you.

Dear Yusuf, my friend, my love (for indeed I still feel as I did when we parted- I love you Yusuf, I’m sorry I didn’t say so when I had the chance) perhaps I give too much away to you. Should I try and keep some of myself for just me?

I do not know what I should do.

All I know is that there is an ache in my chest, one I do not suspect will leave me until I can hold you again.

Awaiting your next letter,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ October 28th 1436 _

_ My dearest, Nicolò, _

_ Oh, how I have lived in anguish these last two months while I awaited your letter. The amount of times I thought to send another and release you from my vow of undying love. To save myself the embarrassment of your rejection. _

_ I could not do it, for I am selfish and could only think of how I hoped you would reciprocate.  _

_ Apologies- I should not talk of my own insecurities. I only wish to convey how deep and all consuming my love for you is, and continue to hope that you receive it and return your love to me. _

_ Your letter was marked for the twenty-second of October. If I remember correctly, that is your birthday, is it not? Surely you had better things to do than write to me on such a momentous occasion. Still- you thinking of me on that day warms my soul. _

_ If I were there I would have showered you with every treasure and affection. Perhaps next year. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

November 7th 1436

Yusuf,

The last thing I ever want to do is cause you distress. Please know that no matter how long between my letters, my feelings for you have not changed. 

I swell at the thought of you, and think of you often- it has become a problem as I practice drills and wonder if you would be impressed at my improved skills. It is less of a problem at night- though it is no less frustrating.

On the note of length between letters, I will be gone through at least the end of the year, traveling through the countryside with an envoy from the capital.

If I could guarantee access to reliable messengers, I would write to you. Though past experience tells me not to hope for such luxuries, especially for someone of my station. 

Write to me in the new year. I’ll have much to tell you about my travels I’m sure, but I know that all I will want upon arriving home is to find your words written in your elegant script waiting for me.

I pray these next few months pass quickly.

I love you,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ December 14th 1436 _

_ My Nicolò, _

_ I know you will not receive this until you return home, and I do plan to write a more substantial letter to you closer to then, but I had a thought- I can almost hear your voice teasing me, “a thought, Yusuf? Dangerous from you, do not strain yourself.” How I did not know of your feelings for me, I will never understand. They seem plain as day to me as I look back on our time together. I ramble, I apologize (another thing I know you would tease me for- oh, how I long to annoy you again- to make you laugh again). _

_ The thought that spurred my pen a month early: what if you arrive home early and I have not yet written you? Would you think me callous at having denied your one request? _

_ So I am writing now, though I fear I don’t have much to say. _

_ My father speaks of giving me more responsibility now that I am home, training me to take his place. I can’t deny that I do not love the idea. I was not born to sit and pour over trade agreements and tax ledgers. I would rather be with you, traveling from village to village, taking in the country from the seat of a saddle. _

_ I would warm your bedroll a night, as the December chill settles in, and tell you how I loved the way you practiced with your sword (your last letter has given me much to think about on that topic this past month). _

_ Alas, it does me no good to daydream of things that cannot be. _

_ My one solace is that my father is still strong and healthy and may yet live for many years. _

_ You will hear from me again before I hear from you… I miss you. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

_ January 4th 1437 _

_ My sweet Nicolò, _

_ The letter you actually asked for, closer to your return home- though I do not know the exact date of your return. _

_ You can see by the date that I have exercised considerable restraint and waited an entire four days into the new year before I have written. Clearly I am the picture of patience and personal discipline. You, sir knight, could learn a few things from me, I am sure. _

_ I wonder at what you have been doing these months. There is no war or rebellion to speak of on your side of the Mediterranean, as far as I am aware. (A fact I am happy for. For as much as I love to imagine you in armor, I’d rather you didn’t have need of it.) _

_ With no battles to speak of, are you bored? What sort of things does a squire do with his free time while on the road? _

_ I requested to spend more time with an instructor and have been working on my own skills with a blade. You’ll be pleased to know that all you taught me last year has not completely vacated my brain. I was even able to surprise my teachers on an occasion or two. _

_ I hope your travels were good and passed as swiftly as you wished them to. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

February 10th 1437 

Yusuf,

I come home to two letters waiting for me? More than I could ever have hoped for.

I see you have flattered me by calling me Sir, and a knight in a single stroke of your pen. Someday, God willing, but for now I am still a humble squire.

The tour went as expected: full of much monotony broken by the occasional ball or feast in some of the larger towns. A soldier’s life on the road is either boring or mortally dangerous. I too prefer the former- don’t worry Yusuf, I would not throw myself into danger unnecessarily, not anymore.

Do you know that I dreamt much the same as you did? Of you warming my bedroll at night. More than one senior member of our party had their spouse or lover with them. I envied them each night as I thought of you. I do not need to tell you what I did to ease those thoughts, much to the chagrin of my tentmate. I may have a tendency toward silence, but with your name on my tip of my tongue I could not always help it.

The two letters I had received before I left are stained with dirt and sweat. The creases are beginning to show the wear of how often I opened them to read them in the light of our fires each night. More than once someone from the company asked after whose letters I reread so often.

I told every one of them about you. Took pride in describing my love. I told them of your humor and your kind eyes, of your dark beard and sharp mind. The only thing I could not tell was your title- oh, how I wish I could scream my love for you to the heavens, to boast of the one I get to call mine. 

Yusuf al-Kaysani, the man who holds my heart. A prince who I dared to confess my feelings to, and who by some miracle returned them.

Maybe someday- but no, you are right. Perhaps it is best not to waste time dreaming of what could never be.

It seems silly to cling to pieces of paper, but without you to hold that is all I have.

Nicolò

**\---**

_ March 23rd 1437 _

_ Sweetest Nicolò, _

_ I wish I had more time to sit down and write to you. Unfortunately I think both our lives do not allow for that. We have said it before, but I fear I must again- no matter the length of time between my letters, know that I think of you often. _

_ Do you know that in the time since your last letter, the date of our first meeting has come and gone? Can it be only a year since I first looked upon your handsome face? It seems to me a lifetime has passed since I last looked upon you, let alone first beheld you. _

_ My father is running me ragged with lessons and work. I did not think it possible to be so exhausted after sitting in a chair all day, but I collapse into bed at night with scarcely the energy to do as you say you did in your tent- though I do not have fellow soldiers to worry about (I have screamed your name on more than one occasion. I’m sure the servants talk of you as much as I think about you- I would have the whole world know your name if I could). _

_ Tonight my father told me that he is taking me on a tour of the kingdom, one he takes every few years, and expects that I should do as well once I take the throne. _

_ If you can bear it (and I think you can, you were always better at staying quiet than I was) don’t write while I am away. I hate to think of your lovely words going unread for months on end. _

_ Practice your drills and imagine me watching you like I was a year ago. I will look at the stars every night and remember laying in the grass next to you, so close I could feel the heat off your body as I taught you the names of the constellations. _

_ I wish I had found the time to write to you sooner, so that maybe I would have another of your letters to take with me- but I fear this will have to suffice. _

_ My thoughts are always with you my dear, dear Nicolò. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

_ October 13th 1437 _

_ Nicolò- the light that guides me home, my northern star, my candle in the darkness, oh how I have missed you! _

_ I am home. _

_ Nearly seven months- I regret now telling you not to write while I was away. I would do anything to have new words of yours to read. _

_ The tour was long, but I’ll admit it was nice to see the kingdom- most of which I had not seen before. _

_ I haste to finish this letter and send it to you so that I may get a quick reply. That would not be fair to you though, for I am sure you have been as lonely as I have been these past months. _

_ I believe I may have bragged about my ability to shout your name at night. Well, now I can tell you that I now have a greater sympathy for your plight while you were gone in the winter. Sharing close quarters with one’s own father does not offer the type of privacy one needs for that kind of activity. Fellow soldiers? Yes. A father and king? I dared not do a thing. _

_ I would go weeks without release, Nicolò! I hate to complain but I really cannot describe the frustration that plagued my every day. _

_ Nicolò! _

_ Since writing the above I have taken a break to see my mother and sisters (yes, coming to write to you was the first thing I did upon arriving home. I half hoped I would find a letter from you- alas, the folly lies with me and my asinine request that you not write to me) and they have wonderful news! _

_ Sébastien is to be married at the end of the year! Please say that you have heard this news as well. For while I am happy for our friend, I can not hold back the hope that blooms within my chest at the possibility of seeing you again. _

_ If my math is correct, this should reach you on or near your eighteenth birthday. _

_ Over a year since I saw and held you for that brief moment in the garden, I will send prayers to any God that will listen that you are going to be at the wedding, I don’t think I could bear another year without holding you again. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

November 2nd 1437

Yusuf,

My love, I will be there. God in heaven, I will be there!

Is it strange that I am nervous to see you in person once more? Everything is so much different now than when I saw you last, and I fear I will be a disappointment. I also know that I have changed quite a bit since you last saw me… I might even be taller than you now.

I can’t seem to write more now- nerves for a meeting that will not take place for over a month are making my hands shake.

I cannot wait to see you again, my love. I’ll meet you in our garden.

Nicolò


	5. A Sense of Propriety

Arriving back in Paris after more than a year was strange. Everything looked the same and he still knew the palace like the back of his hand, but it felt like a lifetime had passed. He was so different.

Sébastien and his father were of course there to greet Yusuf and his father upon their arrival. Sébastien pulled him into a tight hug and whispered, “he has not yet arrived.”

Yusuf was glad he had at least one person who knew of his and Nicolò’s feelings. Even if Yusuf had not exactly kept the French prince updated, he was sure Sébastien knew why his eyes darted around the courtyard, searching for the one person he was desperate to see.

Yusuf arrived in Paris two days before the wedding and he spent the entire day glued to Sébastien’s side, hoping that any news of Nicolò and his father’s arrival would reach him the quickest.

They did not arrive that day, nor the next. Yusuf worried that if there was some delay to Nicolò’s arrival they would not have any time together at all. The morning of the wedding arrived with no word on the arrival of any parties from Genova.

Yusuf met Nicolette, Sébastien’s intended, and spent a bit of time with his oldest friend that morning, but then he was left to his own devices while the wedding drew ever closer. There was still no sign of him.

The wedding began and he had still heard no news of Nicolò

The ceremony was gorgeous, to be sure. Yusuf stood on the main floor of the throne room, near the front with his father. The gallery was full of people as well, looking down into the main part of the room. Nicolette looked enchanting and Sébastien looked absolutely in love with her, though Yusuf could hardly focus on the anticipation and excitement of seeing his oldest friend be married. All he cared about was the feeling of what seemed like a rare opportunity slipping through his fingers.

He’d lost count of how many times he had searched the crowd at that point, and he’d received more than one admonishing look from his father. The priest was blessing Sébastien and Nicolette’s union, signaling that the ceremony was almost done when Yusuf took one last desperate look around the room, and there in the gallery, where he was sure he had looked before, his eyes met the familiar pale blue-green he’d spent the previous 17 months dreaming of.

Nicolò was already looking back at him -staring at him, really- when their eyes met. Yusuf half expected him to look away embarrassed, but his eyes never left Yusuf’s. He merely shifted his stance, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly. Though he couldn’t quite see it through the crowd of people, he could tell by the way Nicolò’s arm was bent that he was resting it on the pommel of a sword strapped to his hip.

Nicolò looked much the same as Yusuf remembered him, if not a little older, which he supposed was an odd realization to make when you hadn’t seen someone in over a year. He smiled to himself at the thought.

Nicolò tilted his head to the side and his smile grew ever so slightly, but then the priest was saying something and people were clapping and Yusuf finally tore his eyes back to the front of the room to watch Sébastien take Nicolette’s face in his hands and kiss her. He was glad for his friend and tried his hardest to focus on the history that he was witnessing, but it took everything in him not to look back at Nicolò. The sound of his heartbeat in his ears was muffling all other noise, including Sébastien and his bride being announced.

The hall began to clear and Yusuf glanced back at the gallery to find Nicolò gone. Yusuf half thought that he imagined Nicolò there, but his father was standing just behind where Nicolò had been standing only moments before.

It was then that Yusuf remembered the instructions at the end of Nicolò’s last letter.

_I’ll meet you in our garden._

Yusuf practically ran from the hall.

It was nearing dusk as Yusuf exited the palace. He walked as fast as he dared without drawing attention to himself, but as soon as he knew he was out of sight of where some of the wedding guests were spilling out onto the terrace, he took off running.

He took the same path he had been pulled down by Nicolò over a year prior and ran into the labyrinth. He was so focused on getting to the meeting spot that he hadn’t thought of what he was going to do when he careened around a corner and nearly collided with Nicolò.

He stopped short of actually running into him, but only just, and sprang back from him in surprise. He froze, unable to make his mind come up with anything to do but stare at the squire in front of him.

What a poor memory he had. He had already been struck by just how poor his recollection of Nicolò’s raw beauty was when he saw him standing in the gallery, but he had been far away then, and now, with barely any space between them, he was convinced his memories of Nicolò could not have been accurate.

Nicolò was staring back at him, his brilliant eyes wide and somehow impossibly both blue and green in the fading light. He was wearing a light grey doublet and a simple belt which held his sword, and Yusuf was sure he had never seen anyone look so handsome in such plain clothing. 

Nicolò wasn’t moving and Yusuf wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.

A millennia seemed to pass where they just started at each other, until finally Nicolò spoke.

“You-” he started, but his voice trailed off. His eyes were still locked with Yusuf’s but he was breathing once more, slow and deep.

Yusuf’s mind immediately started panicking over the single word. You? You what? _You are not what I remembered? You shouldn’t be here? You are not what I want anymore and I simply wanted to let you know in person?_ Yusuf’s mind spiraled down every path that led to Nicolò saying this was a mistake, until-

“You came,” Nicolò breathed out.

“Of course I came,” Yusuf said. He clenched and relaxed his hands, trying to hold himself back from pulling Nicolò into his arms. Nicolò seemed to be struggling as well.

“I missed you,” he said as he took the smallest of steps closer to Yusuf.

“And I, you,” Yusuf replied.

Nicolò was right there in front of him, why was he holding himself back? He saw Nicolò’s eyes flick down to his lips for a moment and they both moved at once.

Their lips crashed together and Yusuf wrapped his arms around Nicolò’s shoulders.

Yusuf had thought about the last and only time they were together so often over the year they’d spent apart. He had replayed how rushed everything had been, and was determined not to let history repeat itself, and yet here they were, frantically grabbing at each other’s clothing and ungracefully kissing like they were ravenous for the other’s lips.

Yusuf moaned as Nicolò’s hands pressed to the small of his back at the same moment he darted his tongue against Yusuf’s own. He wound his fingers through Nicolò’s hair and enjoyed a breathy sigh in return.

Their time was short, but it wasn’t as short as it had been last time. They had time, not much, but enough to savor more than just a hurried and sloppy kiss, so Yusuf moved his mouth away from Nicolò’s and started kissing along his jaw.

“You’re here. You came. I was scared you wouldn’t-” Nicolò babbled out.

“You were scared?” Yusuf shot back as he moved from jaw to neck, “I’ve been here waiting for days, I thought we wouldn’t have time.”

Nicolò tilted his head up and sighed again, which gave Yusuf perfect access to kiss his Adam’s apple before moving down further still and licking lightly right where the collar of Nicolò’s shirt fell.

“We leave in the morning. One night is hardly what I had hoped for,” Nicolò said quickly. Yusuf stopped what he was doing, he hadn’t realized their time would be quite that short.

He stood back to his full height and brushed a stray hair off of Nicolò’s forehead.

“It’s enough,” Yusuf said, _it had to be._

Nicolò nodded to himself and took a step back.

“So, how have you been?” Yusuf asked with a smirk.

Nicolò was still panting, but a soft snort -almost a laugh- escaped him.

“Since my last letter? Nothing of note has happened. As far as I know after this we go back to Genova for the foreseeable future. It is relatively peaceful now, so there’s not much need for a knight let alone a squire. My father wants to look into competing in tournaments, so that would be something to look forward to.”

One of Nicolò’s hands found Yusuf’s as he spoke. They slowly moved within each other’s grasps, tangling fingers together and lightly dragging fingertips over wrists and palms. Yusuf had to stifle a shiver in response, the simple slow movement of their hands threatening to overwhelm him.

Nicolò pulled Yusuf lightly by the hand and they started walking.

They talked for a time, asked after each other’s health and that of their families. After the initial awkwardness subsided though, they fell back into old patterns. They made jokes and reminisced about the months they had spent together.

It was almost as if nothing had changed between them, even as everything had. The sun set and the sky grew darker around them but they didn’t keep their distance out of a misplaced sense of propriety like they once had. Instead, Nicolò’s hand settled on Yusuf’s hip as they wandered through the twisting maze.

There was an ease between them that wasn’t there before. Yusuf thought that they must have been guarding their attraction to each other so closely that they had inadvertently created an awkward rift between them, but now that rift was gone and everything seemed easy. They touched and kissed and laughed as if they had done it a million times before.

“I wish it could always be like this,” Yusuf said quietly as they neared the entrance to the labyrinth over an hour later.

“That would be nice,” Nicolò answered solemnly.

Just before they were about to walk out of the maze Nicolò pulled him back so they were hidden from view.

“I love you,” he whispered. Yusuf was taken aback by the earnestness of his words until he remembered that while they had written _I love you_ dozens of times to each other, he had never actually heard Nicolò speak the words out loud.

Yusuf cradled Nicolò’s face in his hands, closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Nicolò’s, as gently as he could, just a breath of a kiss. He ended the practically chaste kiss, expecting them to continue heading back toward the palace. Instead what Yusuf saw as he opened his eyes was a fire in Nicolò’s eyes. And suddenly they were kissing feverishly once more.

Nicolò was repeating _I love you_ over and over. Every time they parted for a moment to breathe, he said it again.

“I didn’t say it before,” Nicolò gasped. He rested his hands on Yusuf’s chest and stared at them. He then took a breath that failed to steady him. “I worried I would never get the chance. I thought I would never see you again- that I wouldn’t be able to tell you.”

Yusuf brought a hand to Nicolò’s chin and coaxed his love to look up at him. There were tears on his cheeks, but Yusuf brushed them away as best he could. 

“I know- and you did tell me. You have told me countless times, though it is nice to hear the words in your lovely voice,” Yusuf said, continuing to lightly rub his thumbs across Nicolò’s cheekbones. 

“I love you, Yusuf.”

“I love you too.”

They returned to the party soon after that, and were quickly separated by their respective families wanting to make introductions.

The rest of Yusuf’s night still revolved around Nicolò, though. He found every excuse to excuse himself from conversations so that he could walk by him and trail fingers down his arm. Nicolò returned the favor just as often and seemed particularly fond of placing his palm on the small of Yusuf’s back as he squeezed passed.

They were even able to speak to each other a few times. They had spent half a year together in that very palace not even two years prior, after all, and no one would have batted an eye at them catching up. It seemed like every time they stood together for too long, however, Yusuf’s father would come fetch him to introduce him to another queen or prince or duke he had no interest in meeting, and the game of trying desperately not to shiver under Nicolò’s light touch on his back as he moved to the other side of the ballroom continued.

The party began to die down when Nicolò caught Yusuf’s eye from across the ballroom and nodded his head toward the terrace.

They exited out through different doors, but they found the large stone courtyard deserted and moved toward each other quickly.

“Tomorrow,” Nicolò said when they reached each other, “we are leaving early.”

Yusuf nodded and glanced back at the large doors that led back into the ballroom. No one appeared to be even near the doors, let alone looking out at them, so Yusuf leaned forward and kissed Nicolò lightly on the lips before taking a step back to a respectable distance once more.

“I know you hate mornings,” Nicolò said and Yusuf laughed, “but I’d like to pay you a proper goodbye if I can.”

“Of course,” Yusuf said quickly, “shall I meet you in our garden?”

This time it was Nicolò who glanced back at the celebration before closing the distance between them and kissing Yusuf twice before saying _yes_ against his lips.

They parted once more, and Yusuf quietly said, “goodnight, Nicolò.”

To which Nicolò replied, “goodnight, I love you.”

Even in the dim light that was spilling out of the ballroom Yusuf could see Nicolò blush.

\---

Yusuf awoke before dawn. He jolted awake so many times fearing he had slept in that he had hardly slept at all. The pre-dawn light barely lit his way down to the hedge maze, but he made it in one piece, and this time he was there before Nicolò. He found a spot of the shrub that was solid enough to partly hold his weight and leaned up against it, absolutely aware that he was attempting to look dashing and not having it in him to feel embarrassed. 

“You came,” Nicolò gasped out as he rounded the corner five minutes later.

“I wonder how many times I’ll have to show up for that to stop sounding like a surprise?” Yusuf asked with a smile, and then Nicolò kissed him, slow and sweet.

“I’m sorry,” Nicolò said when he broke the kiss.

Yusuf was still so lost in the feeling of their lips pressed together that all he could manage to say was, “what?” with his eyes still closed, leaning forward, chasing the lost contact.

“I’m sorry,” Nicolò said again, and this time Yusuf opened his eyes to find Nicolò staring back at him with his intense eyes, focused in concentration. “I just- It doesn’t make sense for you to love me.”

Yusuf shook his head, truly bewildered by the seemingly out of nowhere statement. He couldn’t fathom what would cause Nicolò to say such a thing, surely he had proven his devotion to Nicolò, at least a little bit.

“How could you think that?” Is what Yusuf settled on asking.

“Just look at last night,” Nicolò started. He picked absentmindedly at one of his fingernails. “You belong to a different world than I do. You were at the center of the festivities while I was in the gallery. You were being paraded in front of every eligible royal at the party while in Genova there is a fisherman’s son who thinks he can catch my eye by patching nets while shirtless. You are a prince and I am-”

“Perfect. You are perfect. Please, don’t ever finish that sentence.” Yusuf pulled Nicolò against his chest and buried his face in the squire’s shoulder. “If I am a prince, I am _your_ prince. Yours and no one else’s.”

Nicolò didn’t say anything, but Yusuf felt a hand tighten on the back of his tunic. The embrace was brief, as they knew it had to be, but when they pulled back Nicolò already looked a bit lighter.

“I do not make vows lightly. I told you that I will never love another and I meant, I mean it, with everything that I am.”

“You made that vow to a 16 year old who foolishly thought he had a chance with a prince.”

“And now I’m making it again to an equally foolish 18 year old who still thinks he is not enough,” Yusuf said. He could feel Nicolò pulling back slightly. They both knew their time was short, but Yusuf couldn’t stand the thought of this being their final conversation before they were once again parted for months or years. “Don’t leave it like that.”

“I won’t. I-” Nicolò gave him a small smile, “I love you. God in heaven, I love you Yusuf.”

“I will miss you,” Yusuf said. He grabbed Nicolò’s hand as he took a step back. The whole situation was hauntingly familiar to the last time they said goodbye.

“And I you,” Nicolò brought Yusuf’s hand to his lips, “but we’ll see each other again.”

Nicolò took another step and started to let go of Yusuf’s hand, but the prince grabbed it tighter one last time and looked into Nicolò’s eyes, trying to convey every emotion he was feeling in that single moment.

“I love you, and I’ll never love another,” Yusuf said and he let go of Nicolò’s hand, who smiled sweetly in response.

And that was it. A single evening and a hurried goodbye, then Nicolò was gone and Yusuf was alone once more.


	6. 1438 -1439

January 12th 1438

Yusuf,

It is scarcely three weeks since I saw your face. Held you. Kissed you. Felt you tremble at the touch of my hand.

The greatest reward for the time we spent apart and the loneliness we endured.

Though now that I am home I miss you more than ever. One night was not enough. I am not ashamed to admit that I have cried myself to sleep every night for a week for missing you so.

God in heaven Yusuf, I want you. 

I would ask you to run away with me if I did not think they would hunt us down inside a week and hang me for kidnapping.

Do you think you could love me if we weren’t ourselves? If we were two young men who met just by chance? Were we not bound to our lives I would have asked you to be mine when I first saw you, young though I was.

I lie awake at night and think of you. Since Sébastien’s wedding I draw no more pleasure or comfort from thinking of you at night, only longing and grief. I yearn for you with every piece of my soul. I am driven to despair at the thought of never truly having you.

I once spoke of an ache in my chest that I did not think would leave me until I held you again.

God cursed me with a treacherous prophecy that day. For my chest no longer aches, it burns. And I am powerless to stop it.

I cannot eat, or sleep. I can scarcely leave my bed. My mother thinks me ill and dying. Perhaps I am.

This letter would be stained with my tears if I had any left to give.

This is a pain I do not think I can bear for a lifetime, please say I can see you, please say I can be with you.

Nicolò

**\---**

  
  


January 15th 1438

Yusuf,

I fear I must apologize for my previous letter.

I am not sure what came over me.

No- that is not true. I know what happened. I allowed myself to want more than I can have. I was selfish, and I let myself drown in that selfishness. I think perhaps I need to hear what I already know in my heart. Or rather, I need to read it in your own hand. That we cannot be together. Not in the way that I want. 

Even now I can’t help but hope you will say it can be so. That you will send for me on the next tide.

Oh my darling Yusuf, regardless of what desperation drove me to write my previous letter, I must tell you that I did not lie. Were it in my power to do so I would ask you to marry me. No one could hope for a better husband than you, and I would make it my life’s mission to be worthy of you and bring you joy.

Alas.

I know it cannot be, no matter how hard I wish it.

I’m sure I must have caused you pain- with both this letter and my last. I wish I could turn back time and render the previous one unsent. To allow us to live in the willful ignorance of our shared delusion for a while longer.

I will continue to thank whatever lucky star I was born under that you gave even a piece of your heart to me.

Forgive me, I was wrong to despair.

Nicolò

**\---**

  
  


_January 25th 1438_

_Nicolò,_

_I received both your letters at once and I do not know whether to curse or bless whatever boat delayed your first or hastened your second._

_Had I received only the first I am sure I would have been on a boat to see you within the hour. And then I am certain what you feared in asking me to run away would have come to pass anyway._

_Your second letter stayed my brashness, but only just._

_It has been three days since I received your letters and I have been beside myself with grief and anger and worry. For you. For me. For the future I would give us if I could._

_Do you not think that I want that too? Do you not think that I would do anything to make you mine?_

_Almost as soon as I returned from my fostering in France I went to speak with my father. I asked him of his plans for my future, and if he planned to find a spouse for me._

_My sisters, both younger than I am, are already married. Good matches made by him. So why not me?_

_He said I was too valuable to marry just anyone, that only the most rare of offers could tempt him to make a match for me._

_I asked him again after your first letter, where you spoke of the Tunisian ships that flew my family's crest. This time I pushed him further._

_Would I be allowed to choose my own spouse? If I found someone I loved would he grant me leave to be with them?_

_He said no._

_On our tour of the kingdom last year, I wrote to you of my discomfort. I joked about not being able to find pleasure in thoughts of you while he was near._

_That is not entirely accurate._

_Early on I snuck away from my guards and made my way to a small grove of trees at the edge of camp for a moment alone. To think of you and take my pleasure._

_I was found of course, it was foolish of me to think I would not be missed. Some of the guards heard me crying out your name. They reported it to my father and what they had found me doing while I called for you._

_To say he was displeased would be an understatement._

_He demanded to know who you were and if I had let myself be defiled by you. I told the truth, for my lying to him would not have stopped him from finding out who you are. I of course also told him the truth that we had not lain together._

_He is a smart man and of course knew you were why I had asked after marriage contracts. I do think I saw a brief moment of pity in his eyes at that._

_I have not spoken of marriage to him since and he has not brought it up._

_I did not tell you of this because- I don’t know. I did not wish to see you in pain, I suppose._

_I fear that pain of this nature was inevitable for us, so I will not dwell on why it has come to pass now that it plagues us both._

_Nicolò. My love, my life, my very reason for breathing._

_You have asked me to tell you something that I do not think I have the strength to write down. I hope that by telling you of these moments that I have done the next best thing, and eased your longing somewhat._

_I will not lie to you and say there is an overabundance of hope for us. But I hope for it just the same._

_I know this hurts, my love. I know this is hard, but you must believe me when I say- no, vow:_

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

**\---**

February 21st 1438

My love,

I have spent more time thinking about how to respond than I care to admit since receiving your reply two weeks ago. I am so ashamed at my short-sighted and selfish moment of weakness.

Of course I know you want the same things, and would be at my side if you could. Just as I would be at yours.

I would never have dared to dream that you would speak to your father with designs of marrying me.

I do not doubt your love, Yusuf. I never have. I suppose I just did not understand the depth of it. I do now, and I won’t soon forget.

Let us not speak of this anymore. For now, at least. I know that I am the one who began this whole mess, but if you are willing to let it go for the time being, so am I.

What matters is that I love you. If I have to wait another year or, God forbid more, to touch you again, then I will. And the wait will be worth it.

You are worth everything, Yusuf, including any pain I might suffer at our separation.

You seem to be better at dates than I am, so I’m sure it will not have escaped your notice that I am writing to you -by design- on the second anniversary of my arrival in Paris.

I hope leaving you with that happy memory will help ease some of the pain I have caused.

I love you more than I could possibly put into words, though I try,

Nicolò

**\---**

_March 15th 1438_

_Beloved Nicolò,_

_I hope my last letter was not taken as me being angry with you. I was not. I was angry at the situation we find ourselves in, that is all._

_But yes, we may talk of other things for a time (though if I continue to love you for my whole life, as I plan to, then I have no doubt we will speak of it again. A love such as ours will take work. Work I am most willing to do. So if and when you need to speak of despair or longing or to rage against me and my birthright that keeps us apart, then please do it. I do not wish to have anything hidden between us)._

_I did notice the date before I even read your letter. That was a happy day, though I am more fond of August first and December nineteenth, for reasons I am sure you can guess at._

_Perhaps maybe October twenty-second, if only because it was the day true beauty was born into this world._

_Apparently summers are to be the time in which we travel. My father is again taking me on a trip, this time to visit some northern kingdoms. We will even pass through France, I did not think I would see Sébastien again so quickly, but I am excited nonetheless._

_(I do not need to tell you that I wish it were you)_

_I will not ask you not to write while I am gone (that was such a foolish thing for me to say last summer), though I do not know if I will be able to write to you in return._

_Last summer’s trip was tedious and busy and I hardly had a moment to myself. I expect this one will be even more so as we will be visiting foreign courts and not our own people._

_I do not know exactly how long I will be gone, but I expect it to be autumn by the time I see the Mediterranean again._

_Know that, as always, my heart is with you and I keep yours safe with me._

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

**\---**

August 1st 1438

Yusuf,

I have thought to write you so many times, but knowing you will not receive the letter until months from now is a hard thing for me to wrap my head around. I know you will enjoy having at least one letter from me waiting for you upon your return home though, so I’ll try.

I do not know what to say. I hate going this long without word from you. I worry for you, even though there is no war in the north. Even though I know you have some skill with a blade and guards that surround you at all times (to the detriment of your pleasure, if I remember correctly. Though perhaps that is too harsh of a joke to make so soon after our letters earlier this year- I do not envy you).

Even with all of that, I fear for you with each passing month. 

Tell me, Yusuf, do your men love you? I’m sure they do, for you are easy to love, and your father is a respected and adored king.

But do they love you as I do? Would they throw themselves in front of danger to protect you as I would? Would they risk everything to stay by your side?

I think not.

There could be no better protection for you than I. You consume me, Yusuf.

Perhaps the only solution is to take me as your personal guard. I would never leave your side, day or night. And you, being the gracious prince and host that you are, would not have me wanting for a warm bed, offering up your own, I’m sure. I would gladly accept and slip under the blankets next to you.

I am sorry- I have let my daydreaming run away with me again.

I think of sleeping with you often, though. Not coupling- not lying together (though I think of that often as well) but simply sleeping next to you, your body warm at my back, an arm thrown over my waist, your breath hot on my neck.

To wake up the same, but to have your body hard as well as warm at my back.

I hope this is not too much to ask, but someday I would like to spend a night with you. I know there is great risk at our coupling, but I ask only to sleep next to you and feel your body against mine.

I hope you return home soon. If I am doomed not to look on your face, I would at least look on your words again. Write me quickly upon your return, I long for you.

Nicolò

**\---**

_November 17th 1438_

_Nicolò!_

_I have so much to tell you, but first let me address the letter I found upon my return._

_Do you enjoy teasing me so? Do you enjoy the thought of me swelling in my pants as I read your letter? Of me shifting, unable to sit still for the heat that seized my sex was so strong it threatened to burn out of me before I could even take myself in hand? Does that thought bring you pleasure?_

_If it does, then you will be glad to hear I have taken my pleasure three times since reading your letter. Each time thinking of inviting you to my bed and waking up next to you._

_Next time I am lucky enough to see you I will share a bed with you if I have to fight one hundred warriors (though I am sure I would lose terribly- I suppose I am lucky to have a lover such as you, sir knight, to protect me in my foolish endeavors)._

_To calm your fears somewhat, I will tell you of my personal guard. First, I must tell you that when you speak of my ‘men’ you must really speak of my ‘guards,’ for their numbers include more than one woman. One among them, Andromache, who I consider a close friend. She is fierce and would surely never let any harm befall me. Rest easy, my knight, I am well protected._

_Can I tell you that I hate the north?_

_I do not think I will easily be persuaded to venture up there again. Even once I am king._

_France is muddy, as I’m sure you remember. But it is also green and warm._

_The northernmost countries held little of value for me. Chiefly because they took me so far from you and your letters. Though I suppose that is not the fault of the countries themselves._

_But, Nicolò! Even in the heat of summer I spent more than one afternoon sheltered indoors from rain and wind. There were grey, cloudy days that seemed to stretch on forever, one after the other. I thought I would go mad missing the sun._

_As surely as the dawn, my father continues to ‘instruct’ me in the things I need to know in order to be a good ruler when my time comes._

_I have always hated lessons, even as a child, but now I find them completely intolerable. Tutors are fine, but the sight of my father turns my stomach._

_I do not wish to bring up things that are painful- but he has spoken with me twice about marriage in the months we were gone._

_I fear I will be forced to marry soon, and though it is treasonous to say, I hate him for it._

_We passed through France both on our way north and on our way south. As we went north Sébastien confided in me that Nicolette was with child, and as we made our way south she was swollen with his son._

_Son- I only know that now, for news of the birth of their child reached me not three days after we left from Paris._

_Surely you have received this news as well? But in the event you have not:_

_He is called Henry, for Sébastien’s father, and is said to be a handsome child._

_Do you think you would ever want children?_

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

_(You do not need to lecture me on my improper use of sir and knight again. I know you do not technically hold the title yet. But I also know you someday will, and it pleases me to think of my gallant knight fighting in my name. A gallant handsome warrior. My knight. My Nicolò)_

**\---**

December 19th 1438

Yusuf,

I am glad to hear of your faith in your guards. I cannot promise I will not still think of you and worry, but I will try to let your words be a comfort.

I hope we will not need to fight anyone to spend a night together, though I would. For you I would fight to the ends of the earth. I would walk a thousand miles to see your face. Many thousands- whatever it took.

Thinking of you swelling- That does give me pleasure. How could it not? And to think that this pleasure came from my words- I am no poet Yusuf, I could never have thought that my words alone could do that to you.

I had received news of Sébastien’s son, though hearing it from you was somehow sweeter.

I would read anything and everything you wished to tell me. No matter how tedious or wholly unconnected to us it was.

Perhaps I should fill my letters with the mundane thoughts of my day, would it please you to hear how I let my mind wander to you while I run or practice with my sword?

But that is not mundane- let me think.

My mother worries for me since my bout of melancholy earlier this year and she now makes me cook with her most evenings. I say “makes” but I truly love what she has been teaching me. I have learned many things from her in the last year.

I can make bread and pasta now, and I have spent many an evening grinding grains into flour.

Perhaps I can cook for you sometime? I will ask if my mother knows any Tunisian recipes. I will make something from my home, and something from yours.

Our next meeting seems to be filling fast. A meal and sharing a bed. It is a wonder if I will even find time to kiss you.

Once again I feel silly pointing dates out to you, but I’m writing to you exactly one year since last saw you. I imagine you looking the same, but when I saw you at Sébastien’s wedding I was completely unprepared for how handsome you looked. I can not decide if I had simply forgotten your beauty or if time had caused you to grow more so.

I suppose I should tell you that I have finally started to wear a beard. It is nowhere near as thick as yours, but I have had more than one person tell me I look handsome with it. Perhaps when we next see each other it will be your turn to be rendered speechless. I doubt it, though.

To answer your question, no. I do not think I would want a child. If only because I do not plan to marry and regardless of my lack of spouse, I would not want to raise a child without you there. I could never force myself to take someone else into my heart. The vow you gave me after our first kiss- The one you renew with every letter? You must know that it is the same for me as well. In case you have any doubt though, let me remind you-

I love you, Yusuf al-Kaysani, and I will never love another,

Nicolò

**\---**

_January 21st 1439_

_Nicolò, Habib Albi,_

_I would never allow someone to disparage your looks in front of me. I can think of little else that would make me angrier than witnessing such a fabrication. So do not think that I will stand by while you devalue your beauty to me and try to disguise it as a compliment of my own._

_You are the most handsome man I have ever seen. At Sebastien’s wedding I too was overcome by merely getting to look upon you again. Simply imagining you with a beard has already convinced me that next time I look upon you I will once again be proven wrong in thinking that there could be no finer sight in the universe than you, for you seem determined to outdo yourself._

_Nothing would please me more than to eat food prepared by you. Well, I can think of more than one pleasure brought by your hands that would please me more. All I mean to say is that I am in favor of adding a meal to our next meeting._

_Perhaps when we are next together I can steal more than a few hours with you. Even a few days. I have no ideas for how to make this happen, though I suspect I could enlist Andromache in my plans, as she enjoys bending the rules._

_A year- well, more than a year now. It somehow feels like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. I hope someday we will not need to endure separations of this length. Perhaps I could convince my father to hire some of the famed Genoese swordsmen to our personal guard?_

_(I already know what he would say- We have plenty of talented and capable warriors here, my son… Daydreaming of an easier situation for us seems to be a favorite pastime for the both of us. I cannot help but hope for the freedom to see you more often, though. Someday)_

_I too don’t want to raise a child without you, though I do not think I will have as much freedom or say in the matter._

_You have mentioned your mother a number of times, are you close with her?_

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

**\---**

February 21st 1439

Yusuf,

Forgive me, my Arabic is rusty, what did you call me at the start of your last letter? I treasure every title and name you give me (yes, including ‘my knight’) and it has troubled me not knowing what this one means. I must admit I am a little scared you have called me something that is better left private -if you catch my meaning- or I would have asked a trader or sailor to translate it for me.

Does it bother you that I cannot think of clever names or titles for you? I have often sat with my pen in hand trying to think of what I could call you, but everything I think of seems to fall short of your poetry.

Once again here I am writing to you on a significant date. It has been three years since I first saw you.

You were walking through the courtyard with Sébastien as my father spoke with a member of the palace guard. We had been riding for days and I was exhausted. Before I saw the two of you I had thought to ask my father for leave to go rest, but that all changed from the moment I saw you.

Surely you must know how handsome you are and do not need me to tell you- but I will regardless. I was completely taken with your dark eyes and brilliant smile. I don’t think you saw me then, or if you did you hid it well, you left with Sébastien merely a moment later.

I saw you again later that day. I had ventured out onto the grounds of the palace, not with designs of finding you, but I can’t deny that the thought did cross my mind. You were reclined under a tree and I asked what you were reading. Do you remember?

I think I could have forgotten my crush if you had been only beautiful, but from the moment I heard you speak I was hopelessly yours.

You are right in guessing that I am close with my mother. My father and I have more of a business relationship than a familial one, which is not uncommon when sons squire for their fathers (I do look forward to when I am a knight and no longer his subordinate in that way. We had quite a close relationship when I was a child, I hope to be able to recapture that in time). But my mother and I have always had a closer relationship.

I think I would like you to meet her someday. I have already told you that she has been teaching me to cook, but you should know that she is also the one who insisted I was educated in more than just combat. You should probably be extremely thankful to her for that, otherwise you would be in love with a brute who didn’t care for the poetry you read.

You were reading a book of poems under the tree that first day, so I am extremely grateful to her. What would I have done if I could not have at least pretend to understand what you were talking about?

This fantasy future meeting we are dreaming up must also include you reading to me once more. 

I miss you, I miss your voice,

Nicolò

**\---**

  
  


_March 21st 1439_

_Nicolò, my moon, my soul,_

_Habib albi means love of my heart. Next time we see each other I will teach you some Arabic._

_Is it too much for me to simply fill this letter with the words “I love you” repeated on every line? Even if I did, I do not think I would be able to convey what it meant to read your account of our first meeting._

_It is true, I did not know that you saw me before you found me under that tree, but I think you must be unaware that I had also seen you before you disturbed my “nap.”_

_I was, as childish as it sounds, actually climbing that tree when I saw you walk out of the castle. You were quite far away, and would not have been able to see the base of the tree. I scrambled down from the branches and attempted to look as though I was asleep, more for my own embarrassment than for any need to impress this stranger who was out for a walk._

_As much as I would love to say that I fell in love at my first glimpse of you, it wasn’t until I opened my eyes to find you standing above me that I became truly enraptured with your beauty._

_I have a discrepancy with your account of what happened, though. You seem to think that I only read you poetry. What actually happened was that you insulted my taste in poetry and then I insisted on reading a few poems to you- to prove you wrong._

_You pushed back against my opinions, and you rolled your eyes at me when I gave arguments to yours. You say you fell in love when you heard me speak, I fell in love with you challenging me. Too many of the people in my life are afraid to contradict me- but not you, never you. You’ve always told me what you think, even if it makes me mad._

_(If I’m being completely honest I may have fallen in love with your eyes at the same time- it’s hard to tell what captivated me first. Though I suppose you rolling your eyes at me counts as part of my previous statement…)_

_S_ _o you want me to read to you_ _at our next meeting as well? Might I make a request? I will read to you if you agree to lie down with your head in my lap while I do. I am sure it is a huge imposition but I have faith that you will endure it stalwartly._

_You used a few words in your last letter that have caused me GREAT concern. Fantasy? Dreaming? Nicolò, I am starting to think that you don’t believe this is happening. I for one am absolutely serious about it. I will make this day happen- just you wait!_

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

_(Have I mentioned how much I miss vexing you? I can imagine your face reading those last two paragraphs and I must say, I wish I could see the way your jaw must have clenched)_

**\---**

April 8th 1439

Yusuf,

I will concede that I did clench my jaw upon reading those last paragraphs- but only a little. I didn’t know whether to smile or scowl when I read your prediction though. You know me too well.

If it will make you happy I will admit that this fantasy meeting may someday happen.

I will indeed lay my head in your lap as you read, and if I may make my own demand? (you said “request,” but you did say you enjoy it when I challenge you…) If my head is in your lap while you are reading me poetry, would you run your fingers through my hair? You have done so while we kissed before and I have to tell you that the feeling of it is so pleasing that I almost had trouble remaining upright. So yes, I would request demand that you do that again… if you’d like.

I am sorry for my short letter, my father has been running me ragged with training. He insists that I am close to completing my training (which I assume means he intends to Knight me soon… though I am already on the old side of squiring).

Perhaps the day you can (correctly) call me your knight is fast approaching. Try not to become too excited by this prospect.

I miss you, habib albi,

Nicolò

(Please do not make fun of me if I did not use “habib albi” correctly. I have trouble coming up with my own words, so I’m stealing yours. I hope you don’t mind)

**\---**

_April 27th 1439_

_Nicolò, Ya Amar, Ya Rouhi,_

_Before you run to one of your sailor friends for a translation (do not think that I have forgotten what you said about the half naked fisherman vying for your affections at our last meeting), that means my moon, my soul, which is exactly what I called you in the previous letter, but I’m sure you’ll forgive my lack of creativity when I tell the reason for this letter:_

_Summer is almost upon us and I am sure you are looking forward to my summer tour as much as I am (which is to say, not at all!)_

_This year will surely be no different in regards to our matched feelings, though this year I daresay the emotion will be excitement as I have just been informed that we will be visiting a number of Mediterranean kingdoms this year, including Genova._

_Nicolò, I will be near you for weeks, possibly a month! Forget a single day and night together, I am sure I could arrange multiple! Andromache (I believe I have mentioned her before, she is one of my guards and one of the few people who knows about us) has already agreed to help me find excuses to slip away and see you._

_We leave two weeks from the writing of this letter and I do not think that is enough time for you to write back. No matter, though. I will have something so much better than just a letter from you in only a few short weeks._

_Oh, my love, I cannot wait to see you, to hold you, to kiss you._

_I love you, I’ll never love another,_

_Yusuf_

_(You say you enjoy the names I call you and yet you still inform me that you will soon OFFICIALLY be a knight. Sir. I hope you know it will be nearly impossible for me to call you anything but “my knight” once you are dubbed one. Enjoy this while it lasts, habib albi… and yes, you used that just fine)_


	7. Summertime Part 1 - The Reunion

Yusuf had never been to Genova before. Then again, he had never been to Algiers, Barcelona or Marseille before that trip either, but none of those cities held his favor even after visiting them; not like the city that he could see from the deck of their ship.

He was fairly certain it was not simply that Genova was the home of his love which caused him to be instantly interested in the bright city surrounded by green hills that was laid out before him. Though it being Nicolò’s home was a mark in Genova’s favor.

It had been ten weeks since Yusuf left Tunis. Ten weeks of introductions and mindless conversations. Ten weeks of his father refusing to even hide that he was trying to find him a good match.

Yusuf knew he would have to deal with the responsibilities of his birthright eventually. Instead, Yusuf chose to ignore the issue and focus all his attention on seeing Nicolò again. The rest could wait- he hoped.

Yusuf helped the sailors bring the ship into port, though he had to brush off more than one,  _ no, no, my prince, do not trouble yourself. _ Standing on the deck of a ship as it was slowly tied off was dull, and he would just as soon direct his nervous energy into something useful.

He left the ship dressed as inconspicuously as possible and with Andromache at his heels.

“ _ Excuse me _ ,” Yusuf said as he approached a man who was coiling rope, struggling to remember the local dialect that Nicolò had taught him three years prior. “ _ I wonder- was wondering if you knew of a man named Nicolò? _ ”

The man stopped what he was doing and looked Yusuf over before casting a distrustful glance at Andromache behind him. “ _ I know of quite a few Nicolòs. You’ll have to be more specific. _ ”

Yusuf paused for a moment, trying to remember the word for  _ squire.  _ “ _ He is an apprentice to a knight- his father, Sir Marco di Genova. _ ”

“ _ Ah, little Nicolò, _ ” the man exclaimed, “ _ I would not have thought to mention him, you asked for a man, and this Nicolò is yet young, and still a squire. _ ”

Yusuf bristled at the implication that Nicolò was not a man. The man in front of him could not have been more than 28, barely five years Yusuf’s senior.

“ _ Yes, a squire, _ ” Yusuf said, vowing not to forget the word again. “ _ Do you know where I can find him? _ ”

“ _ Stay here and you would surely meet him, he walks down this way most evenings. _ ”

“ _ I’m sorry, but I would rather search him out _ ,” Yusuf said. “ _ It is a matter of some importance. _ ”

Yusuf heard Andromache scoff behind him as the man nodded to himself and gave Yusuf a concerned look before gesturing further into the city.

“ _ I can’t say for sure, but you will likely find him at the training ground just beyond that ridge. _ ”

Yusuf followed the man’s outstretched hand and nodded to himself.

“ _ Is everything all right? Nicolò is not in trouble is he? _ ”

“ _ Oh no, he is not in trouble, _ ” Yusuf could feel his face growing hot and he looked down. “ _ I am simply eager to see him. Thank you for your help. _ ”

Yusuf moved to leave but the man spoke again.

“ _ You’re him, aren’t you? _ ”

Yusuf froze for a moment before he turned to find the man smiling back at him.

“ _ W-what?” _

_ “I don’t know why I didn’t see it. Tall, with dark curly hair and kind eyes. You really are as handsome as he says. What’s your name? He refuses to tell anyone.” _

_ “I-”  _ Yusuf could feel his heartbeat in his throat, but he couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up from his chest,  _ “I think if he doesn’t want you to know it, then I will respect his wishes. _ ”

The man laughed and nodded. “ _ Fair enough. Go on then, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” _

Yusuf gave him another nod and smile before starting off toward the ridge where he hoped he would find Nicolò.

\---

The training ground, as it turned out, was little more than a flat round field flanked by a fence and a single low building.

Yusuf slowly walked down from the crest of the ridge and leaned his forearms down on the fence, his hands limp, feigning nonchalance.

He spotted Nicolò almost as soon as the training ground came into view. There were a number of people sparring on the field, most with training swords, but a few were grappling without weapons. It had taken Yusuf a moment, but once he saw Nicolò arc his training sword around him as he spun to hit his opponent across the middle -a move that surely would have sliced open the belly of the other swordsman if they were using real blades- he was sure he had found his love. Nicolò had shown him that move when they spared back in Paris, one of the few times Yusuf had allowed himself to touch Nicolò before they kissed.

Yusuf stood watching from where he leaned on the fence for a long time. He saw Nicolò best opponent after opponent. Some handedly, others with much effort, but all of them yielded eventually.

Yusuf wasn’t sure what possessed him to finally duck under the fence and make his way across the field toward Nicolò, but after watching nine bouts he couldn’t help himself as the tenth challenger squared off against Nicolò.

Yusuf came to stand at the edge of a group of bystanders that had been steadily growing with each new fight. Nicolò’s back was still to him but he could hear his voice though not quite understand what was being said. Just the cadence of Nicolò talking had Yusuf’s breath catching in his chest and the hair on his arms standing on end. Then he tilted his head back and laughed and Yusuf nearly ran to him right then. He was able to restrain himself just barely, if for no other reason than there were too many people around.

“He’s talented.”

Yusuf jumped slightly, he had nearly forgotten Andromache was with him. She smirked while continuing to watch Nicolò prepare to fight.

“Yes,” Yusuf said with an answering smirk, “that he is.”

Nicolò raised his sword, as did his opponent, preparing to fight. Someone said something that must have been a sign to start as the two swordsmen began to circle each other.

Even though Nicolò had told him that he now wore a beard, Yusuf was completely unprepared for when he caught his first glimpse of it as the two men rotated in the middle of the growing crowd.

“ _ Don’t be a coward, Keane _ ,” someone in the crowd yelled out.

The corner of Nicolò’s mouth turned up slightly the moment before his opponent -Keane, Yusuf assumed- made his first move.

Nicolò parried the strike easily and they were back to circling each other. Keane tried two more times to strike at Nicolò in quick succession, but was again repelled.

Keane seemed to be getting angrier by the moment, and he struck at Nicolò again. This time they traded multiple blows before Nicolò’s last parry knocked Keane so far off balance that he fell backwards with a scowl that looked an awful lot like hatred on his face.

“ _ Stop toying with him, Nicolò _ ,” a young woman standing just in front of Yusuf said.

Nicolò turned to the sound of the voice with a small smirk on his lips as Keane struggled to his feet. It should have been a quick glance, one that would have allowed Nicolò plenty of time to prepare to face Keane again, but his eyes landed on Yusuf and he froze.

Yusuf couldn’t help but smile at the completely bewildered look on Nicolò’s face. He was about to say something when a newly upright Keane came barreling into Nicolò from behind, tackling him face first into the ground.

Yusuf moved forward instantly, but he was far from the only one. Nicolò had already turned over underneath Keane and both received and dealt a punch by the time Keane was pulled off of him.

Yusuf crouched down next to Nicolò, balancing on the balls of his feet. Nicolò groaned as he sat up and Yusuf reached a hand out tentatively.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

Nicolò turned his head sharply toward Yusuf with wide eyes and the next thing he knew he was being tackled, falling back from his crouched position and onto his ass, arms full of Nicolò.

“You’re here,” Nicolò said into Yusuf’s shoulder.

Yusuf was vaguely aware of people watching them, but any thoughts of discretion were banished from Yusuf’s mind when Nicolò sat back slightly to look him in the eyes.

Yusuf wondered how many times he would need to see Nicolò to not be completely taken with the sight of him. His piercing clear eyes and prominent nose coupled with subtle, guarded expressions- ones that Yusuf was hopeful he would get better at reading with time. Not for the first time, Yusuf felt the urge to draw his love.

Nicolò was sitting on his knees, bracketed by Yusuf’s legs. Yusuf’s hands had ended up on Nicolò’s hips when they had broken apart from their hug. He tentatively raised one to lightly run it over the new beard. Nicolò leaned into the touch.

“This suits you,” Yusuf finally said after a long moment of staring at Nicolò.

Nicolò blinked for a moment before placing a hand over Yusuf’s on his cheek.

“Oh- th- thank you,” Nicolò stammered. “You really like it?”

Yusuf nodded. He couldn’t stand the way Nicolò was looking at him, nervous and almost shy. They had belonged to each other for nearly three years. Yusuf refused to have Nicolò feel unsure about them. He gently pulled Nicolò forward and kissed him.

Much like at Sébastien’s wedding, kissing Nicolò for the first time felt like coming home. It was easy and natural and unhurried. The kiss was chaste -they were in public after all- but it soothed all of the longing Yusuf had built up within himself over the previous nineteen months. He hoped it soothed whatever longing Nicolò had felt as well.

They pulled apart and Nicolò gave him the barest hint of a smile.

“There are a lot of eyes here, my pr- Yusuf,” Andromache leaned down and whispered.

Yusuf rolled his eyes and said, “yes, boss,” at the same time that Nicolò said, “I don’t care.” 

They both huffed out quiet laughs, stared at each other for a moment and then kissed again.


	8. Summertime Part 2 - The Refuge

Nicolò had apparently talked about Yusuf at great length, only omitting the most dangerous of details- chiefly Yusuf’s birthright. There were multiple people who didn’t believe that Yusuf even existed. Most of them were simply happy to meet  _ Nicolò’s mysterious love _ , however brief those introductions had been. Nicolò blushed furiously throughout the entire interaction.

After their initial greeting in front of the training ground full of soldiers and squires, they had kept their kisses private and brief. There was no reason to think Nicolò’s peers would recognize Yusuf as a prince, but it still felt unwise to push their luck. 

The first week of Yusuf’s stay in Genova was rather busy. He hardly had time to sleep, let alone sneak off to see Nicolò, but he made it work. His father was once again dragging him to as many parties and meetings as he could fit within their waking hours.

Nicolò was busy as well, though his engagements were a bit more predictable, spending every morning with his father and every afternoon training. Yusuf was usually able to find time to sneak away and see him around their midday meals and in the evenings. 

Brief though their encounters were, Yusuf was already happier than he had been in years when Andromache pulled him aside on his 10th day in Genova to let him know that she had secured a cottage at the edge of the city for two nights. Yusuf asked her how she did it, but she refused to say.

The story she had come up with was that Yusuf was going hunting with the daughter of a local duke. A cover story that the two women would enjoy on their own. Knowing Andromache, he was quite sure the two of them would have no problem entertaining themselves on the hunt.

\---

Yusuf arrived at the cottage before Nicolò late in the afternoon. Andromache and the duke’s daughter saw him to the cottage and left directly from there for their  _ hunt. _ If anyone saw him leave the city they would have seen him leaving with the two women and prepped for a hunt.

The cottage was only a single room with a thatched roof, but it had a hearth and a bed. They didn’t need anything else. It was the final day of July, hot and humid but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Yusuf set down his bow and quiver -having only brought them to sell the hunting trip to his father. He was confident he wouldn’t need them- and opened the windows to air out the slightly musty room.

Yusuf had a small pack with him, mostly full of things to make it appear like he was going hunting but among them he had tucked a book of poetry which he placed on a small table near the bed. His eyes lingered on the bed for a moment but it made him feel a strange combination of panicked and excited so he decided to assess the rest of the cottage.

There was a sizable pile of wood near the hearth, but Yusuf had no idea if it was enough to last the two days. Yusuf hadn’t brought any food with him which suddenly felt short sighted. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to decide if it would be completely foolish to go back into the city to buy some food, or if it wasn’t worth the risk of being seen.

“Having second thoughts?”

Yusuf turned from where he had been staring at the hearth and found Nicolò standing in the doorway. He was wearing a pack similar to Yusuf’s though far more worn down, and carrying a basket with a cloth draped over the top.

“Not at all,” Yusuf replied. He took the basket from Nicolò and placed it on the table next to his poetry book. “Just lamenting my lack of practical experience- what is this? It smells delicious.”

Nicolò chuckled as he shrugged off his pack, “a probably terrible excuse for food from your homeland.”

“You cooked?”

“I said I would.” Nicolò’s eyes fell on the table next to Yusuf and the corner of his mouth turned up. “You brought poetry.”

“Yes I- You asked me to-” Yusuf stuttered, unsure of what to do next.

Nicolò moved further into the cottage and took a good look around. When his eyes passed over the bed his cheeks grew pink, but he didn’t linger on it. Instead he walked past Yusuf on his way to the hearth. He trailed a hand across Yusuf’s stomach and eventually grabbed his hand, tugging him to follow.

“Help me with this,” he said as he kneeled down next to the hearth.

Yusuf knelt next to him and watched Nicolò quickly pull a few pieces of wood out of the pile and began piling them in a way that Yusuf was vaguely sure was a good configuration for a fire.

“I-” Yusuf started, he was completely out of his depth. Nicolò’s mouth betrayed only the faintest smile of amusement.

“Could you grab the flint and steel out of my pack?” Nicolò asked.

“Yes,” Yusuf said, jumping up. He at least knew what to look for, found them easily and returned to Nicolò’s side, placing the flint and steel into his open palm.

Yusuf watched him strike it once- twice- three times, and the sparks caught on a bit of dried bark at the base of the pile. Seconds passed and the smallest of flames began to lick at the side of the larger pieces of wood.

“Can I ask you something?” Nicolò said as he stood up, still watching the fire.

“Anything,” Yusuf answered immediately and without thinking.

“Do you know how to use that?” He indicated Yusuf’s discarded bow that still sat by the door with a tilt of his head.

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know how to build a fire.” That one wasn’t a question.

“I usually hunt with large groups of nobles, or at the very least a guard or two and they tend to take care of this sort of,” Yusuf paused trying to find a better word than the one he came up with, “stuff.”

Nicolò nodded once and moved back to the table and took a small cooking pot out of the basket. He returned to the steadily growing fire and placed the cooking pot over it, suspended on a hook. All the while Yusuf watched his steady movements, trying to not feel inadequate.

“This is already finished I just wanted to warm it a bit,” Nicolò said, finally standing back from the fire. He clenched and relaxed his hands a few times before turning to look at Yusuf fully for the first time since he arrived. “I would like to hunt with you someday.”

“Alright,” Yusuf responded automatically.

Yusuf felt rather pinned by Nicolò’s intense eyes on him. He felt like he was being studied. Yusuf had never had the confidence to stare this intently at Nicolò, this unashamedly- all he could think about was what he couldn’t give him.

“I am quite nervous for- well, for everything,” Nicolò finally said.

Yusuf let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, relieved. “I am too.”

Nicolò’s jaw clenched for a moment and then he bit his bottom lip, eyes finally leaving Yusuf’s to look down.

“Kiss me?” Nicolò asked more to the ground than to Yusuf.

Yusuf surged forward immediately. Nicolò had just started to look up at Yusuf when he crashed into him. Being looked at by his love was overwhelming, but kissing Nicolò, that was something Yusuf had never had trouble with. Their lips met and Nicolò sighed.

The kiss deepened quickly, both of them desperate for more than they had allowed themselves over the previous week and a half. Yusuf tentatively opened his mouth and darted his tongue against Nicolò’s lips. Nicolò opened easily and coaxed Yusuf’s tongue into his mouth with his own. 

The fire crackled in the corner, filling the silence between the sounds Nicolò was making in response to every movement Yusuf made. The cottage was slowly warming but the heat emanating from the hearth was nothing compared to the heat building in Yusuf’s core as Nicolò ran his hands over his chest.

Yusuf was thrown off balance slightly as Nicolò gently pushed him, walking him backwards into the small table. He ended up half sitting, half leaning on the table with Nicolò standing between his open legs. Nicolò cradled Yusuf’s face in his hands while Yusuf pressed his palms to Nicolò’s back, pulling their bodies together.

Nicolò was a trained fighter, and certainly more than capable of defending himself, but Yusuf couldn’t help but love the feeling of him completely enveloped in his arms, completely protected from the world.

Yusuf pulled back and leaned his forehead against Nicolò’s.

“I love you,” Yusuf said into the small space between them.

“I don’t want this to end, I don’t want you to leave,” Nicolò whispered, like he was ashamed or somehow didn’t know that Yusuf felt exactly the same way.

“Don’t think about that. We have two nights together and another week after that left,” Yusuf said, trying to convince himself as much as Nicolò not to worry. “We have time.”

Nicolò made a soft noise of agreement. Yusuf leaned in and gave him a few quick chaste kisses, pulling back from Nicolò’s chasing lips each time with a smile, teasing, until Nicolò smiled back at him.

“How about we start with dinner?” Yusuf asked. He carefully brushed a stray piece of hair off of Nicolò’s forehead.

Nicolò leaned around Yusuf and pulled the basket closer to them so he wouldn’t have to leave Yusuf’s loose embrace. He pulled out a large bowl with a cloth draped over the top, two smaller bowls and two spoons. He pulled the cloth off the large bowl to reveal a dish that Yusuf was quite familiar with but had not expected to see.

“Kosksi?” Yusuf asked, his eyes lighting up. He hadn’t had Tunisian food in weeks, and his mouth began to water.

“I hope it’s alright. I’ve never made it before- my mother helped and she’s not overly familiar with the dish either.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Yusuf said before Nicolò could needlessly apologize again.

Yusuf was still staring down at the kosksi when Nicolò finally extracted himself from Yusuf’s arms. Yusuf followed him because he didn’t want to be parted from his love, settling behind him and wrapping his arms around Nicolò’s stomach. He in turn leaned his head back to nuzzle it against Yusuf’s cheek before he took the lid off the pot to reveal a slowly bubbling brew. 

“It’s lamb stew. We don’t have all the ingredients my mother says would make this truly authentic, so I had to make do with some substitutions.”

Nicolò moved the stew to the table, with Yusuf once again following closely behind.

Yusuf began spooning kosksi into both of the smaller bowls. He sat down at the table and added some of the stew over top of the kosksi base. He took a spoonful and blew lightly on it before finally tasting the delicious looking meal.

Yusuf closed his eyes and let out a low moan as soon as the food touched his tongue. It wasn’t exactly like what he usually had at home, but it was certainly closer than anything he had expected to eat while on the other side of the sea.

The kosksi had just the right amount of spice without being overpowering and the lamb meat was tender to the point of him almost not needing to chew as it fell apart in his mouth.

“Do you like it?” Nicolò asked.

Yusuf opened his eyes to find him staring back at him with an unreadable expression. He was gripping the fingers of one hand tightly in the other, and still standing next to the table. He hadn’t even moved to make himself a bowl yet.

“It’s heavenly,” Yusuf said as he brought another bite up to his mouth, “aren’t you going to eat?”

Nicolò nodded and sat down at the table. Yusuf was aware he was being watched every time he took a bite. He didn’t exactly exaggerate his reaction to the food, but he didn’t hide that he thought it tasted amazing.

After staring at Yusuf eating a few more bites, Nicolò finally served himself and tasted his own cooking. He took a bite and coughed- or choked. Yusuf stopped eating and reached across the small table to put a hand on Nicolò’s shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

Nicolò shook his head and coughed again. “I must have done something wrong- that’s too hot.”

Yusuf laughed, “I always forget you northerners can’t handle spice.”

“So you’re not lying? You like it?”

“Lying? Nicolò, of course I like it. I love it. This is the best thing I’ve tasted since I left home two and half months ago,” Yusuf paused for a moment before adding, “and I would never lie to you.”

Nicolò smiled sweetly at him and took another, smaller, bite. He still seemed to have trouble handling the heat, but he ate slowly and didn’t mention it again.

\---

They lingered over the meal for quite some time, talking. Nicolò got up two times to add logs to the fire as the sun began to set and the breeze off the ocean began to rapidly cool the air. Each time he let his hand ghost along Yusuf’s shoulders as he moved to and from the fire, and as they sat and talked he absentmindedly played with Yusuf’s hand where it sat on the table.

They had always had easy conversations. Nicolò was an excellent listener when Yusuf became long winded but when he did have something to say it was always worded perfectly, as though he had been formulating the thoughts in his mind for hours or days.

When Nicolò got up to add another piece of wood for the third time Yusuf stood as well and went to shut the window. The sun had fully set and crickets were chirping outside.

He turned around and found Nicolò staring at him from where he stood at the hearth. They were standing on opposite sides of the cottage, the bed almost perfectly in the middle of the room between them.

Neither of them moved or spoke for a long moment, but then Nicolò smirked slightly and Yusuf couldn’t help but laugh.

“Are you tired?” Yusuf asked.

“No,” Nicolò answered, “but I’d still like to lie next to you.”

Yusuf suddenly felt like he couldn’t swallow, but Nicolò took a step forward, so he did too until eventually they were standing on opposite sides of the bed. Nicolò moved like he was going to kneel on the bed, but seemed to suddenly realize that he was still wearing shoes so he knelt down to remove his and Yusuf followed suit.

When they both stood back up Yusuf started removing his outer shirt and tried not to think too hard about what he was doing as now Nicolò was following his lead.

“We’re uh-” Nicolò started once he was standing in just his undergarments. He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly suppressing a shiver before he spoke again, “We’re not- um- we only wrote about-”

Yusuf finally caught on to what Nicolò was trying to stammer out and shook his head. “No- no. Just sleeping.” Yusuf watched Nicolò nod to himself before he added, “I just want to hold you.”

Nicolò nodded again and finally kneeled on the bed, Yusuf met him quickly there after. They sat facing each other with their knees almost touching for a moment and then something lit between them. A fire three years in the making caught and suddenly Nicolò was pulling Yusuf down to hover over him on the bed as he laid back. They kissed, harsh and open mouthed, like they were ravenous for each other.

Nicolò’s hands on him were everywhere, trailing up and down his back and over his hips and shoulders, as Yusuf tucked his knees under himself and knelt over Nicolò, his legs bracketing Nicolò’s hips.

With most of his weight on his knees Yusuf could finally touch Nicolò in return. He buried his hands in Nicolò’s hair and kissed him again. Nicolò’s hands found their way to his chest, it suddenly wasn’t enough. He sat back on his haunches and began to un do the ties of his undershirt. Nicolò stared up at him with wide eyes, his hands gripping Yusuf’s hips.

“Is this alright?” Yusuf asked.

Nicolò said, “yes,” as he slid his hand under the hem of Yusuf’s shirt.

Yusuf resumed untying his shirt and pulled it off in one swift motion. Nicolò sat up to meet him and kissed his newly bare chest. He tilted his head back and let himself moan as the feeling of Nicolò's mouth along his sternum completely overtook him.

His body wanted more and if he was being honest with himself, all of him wanted more. Not just physically, though that certainly crossed his mind. He wanted Nicolò to teach him how to cook and build a fire. He wanted to see him every day, even if just for a minute. He wanted all of Nicolò. His shy smiles and laughs, his dry wit and keen mind.

But mostly he didn’t want this to end. No matter what he told Nicolò, he found it hard to take his own advice and ignore the fact that this would end in a little over a week.

He felt like he was crumbling under the weight of his unattainable desires, and when Nicolò finally laid back down, pulling Yusuf with him, he rolled onto his side and draped an arm and leg over Nicolò.

“I never imagined this when I first wrote of spending the night with you,” Nicolò said. He turned under Yusuf’s limbs to face him fully. “I feel- It’s like it’s too much.”

Yusuf pulled his leg back from where it was hooked over Nicolò’s hip. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.”

Yusuf didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t help but want more and was sure Nicolò wasn’t ready for most of what was dancing around in Yusuf’s mind. So he waited for Nicolò to take the lead.

They stared at each other for a long time, eyes slowly taking in every part, wandering over exposed skin and barley hidden silhouettes under their thin undergarments.

“I can’t possibly fall asleep while I have this vision in front of me,” Yusuf whispered.

Nicolò gave him a small smile before kissing him on the cheek and rolling out of bed. Yusuf propped his head up on his hand and watched him walk back to the door. He fished a dagger out of his pack and put another log on the fire, before stashing the dagger under his pillow and crawling back into bed.

He hesitated for a moment and bit his lip before turning his back to Yusuf and slotting himself into his arms. Yusuf failed to stifle a groan when Nicolò pressed against his already hard cock.

“Sorry,” Yusuf said quietly, trying to shift backward.

“Don’t be.” Nicolò grabbed Yusuf’s hand where it was barely touching his hip and pulled it around his chest, in effect pressing them together from shoulders to knees. “I want you. Don’t apologize for wanting me too. I’m sorry that we can’t-” His voice trailed off as Yusuf nosed at the back of his neck.

“I will wait however long you need,” Yusuf vowed.

“It’s not that I’m not ready,” Nicolò said. Yusuf smiled as Nicolò shook his head and the short hairs at the back of his neck brushed against Yusuf’s nose. “I’m scared of what will happen when we are eventually found out.”

Yusuf’s smile fell as easily as it formed. “ _ When  _ we’re found out?”

Nicolò didn’t respond, but he pulled Yusuf’s arm tighter around his chest. He knew that Nicolò had these fears, they both did, and had written about them before. They knew it was dangerous to come together fully, but he hadn’t realized until that moment just how scared Nicolò really was.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, not ever,” Yusuf said between pressing soft kisses to the back of Nicolò’s neck.

“I know,” came the answering whisper.

They didn’t speak again, but Yusuf did all he could to make Nicolò feel safe and loved in that moment. He held Nicolò’s hand where it was settled against his chest and pulled him as tight to his chest as possible, not caring about what Nicolò could or couldn’t feel.

Yusuf tried not to entertain the idea that Nicolò might be convinced that he would eventually be punished or killed for loving Yusuf- and that despite that belief he was still choosing to love him anyway. He fell asleep concentrating on the steady thump of Nicolò’s heart against his forearm.

\---

Yusuf woke to the barely there light of pre-dawn. Nicolò had rolled onto his stomach, and Yusuf was draped halfway over his back.

He blinked for a moment, just listening to the morning sounds. The crickets had stopped but a few birds could be heard singing nearby.

The fire had gone out and Yusuf felt chilly where his upper back and shoulders were exposed to the air. He was glad at least that Nicolò felt warm under him, having been shielded from the night’s chill by Yusuf’s own body heat.

He carefully pulled the blanket up to cover them better and Nicolò shifted sleepily under him. He turned his head to face toward Yusuf’s and snuggled closer into Yusuf’s chest.

Yusuf froze. He didn’t want to wake Nicolò, not yet. The feeling of him feeling safe enough to seek him out, even in sleep, threatened to burn Yusuf from the inside out. His face slowly relaxed and Yusuf settled as well, content to watch his love sleep in his arms.

The minutes passed slowly, and Yusuf took advantage of every single one. He studied Nicolò’s face and slowly traced his fingers across his shoulders and back. His fingers itched to draw him, to capture this moment forever. Next time he would have to remember to bring some charcoal.

Nicolò sighed deeply and shifted closer still to Yusuf, his nose just barely touching his chest. Yusuf had to take a deep steading breath. He loved this man so much he was scared his body couldn’t hold all of it at once.

Nicolò took a sudden deep breath, a sure sign that he was waking up. He tilted his head up and blinked sleepily at Yusuf for a moment before smiling and giving him a soft kiss.

“Good morning,” Nicolò smiled shyly.

“Do you know what today is?” Yusuf asked, and when Nicolò shook his head he added, “it’s August first.”

The pale apples of Nicolò’s cheeks slowly began to turn a light shade of pink. Yusuf stroked a hand through Nicolò’s hair and settled it on the back of his neck.

“It is three years to the day,” Yusuf kissed Nicolò’s cheek, “since you pulled me into that garden,” he coaxed Nicolò to turn his head and kissed the other cheek, “and kissed me for the first time.” He kissed Nicolò’s lips -perhaps for a bit longer than he intended, savoring the feeling- and broke the kiss. “Three years since I became irrevocably yours.”

Nicolò stared at him for a moment, all the while the pink on his cheeks deepened. Then he pushed Yusuf onto his back and proceeded to kiss every inch of Yusuf’s chest and shoulders until they were both panting and sweaty.

\---

They walked down to the shore in the morning and Yusuf let Nicolò convince him to go swimming. The last time he’d been swimming with him had been before they knew their feelings for each other, and now he felt like he was second guessing every move he made. But Nicolò took him by the hand and led him deeper into the water and sank down so his mouth was just below the surface of the water.

He looked beautiful staring up at him from between wet eyelashes. Yusuf was about to sink down into the water to meet him- to hold him, when Nicolò popped back up and spat a mouthful of water at him.

Swimming devolved into splashing and wrestling in the water, which shifted easily into kissing and then back to swimming again. By the time they returned to the cottage for a midday meal of dried meat and nuts, they were both exhausted.

They spent the afternoon lounging under a tree next to the cottage. Yusuf with the book of poetry he brought propped open on his bent knee and Nicolò’s head pillowed on his other thigh. Yusuf nervously ran his fingertips across Nicolò’s scalp, like he had confessed to dreaming about in one of his letters. He hummed in response and closed his eyes. Yusuf thought it was the most serene thing he had ever seen.

Nicolò was the perfect person to read poetry to, he often had something to say, but always let the words linger in the air for a moment before he gave his opinion. Yusuf knew the moment he fell asleep because he finished a poem and after a minute there was still no response from Nicolò.

When Nicolò had slept through five more poems Yusuf closed the book and set it aside. He kept running his hand slowly through Nicolò’s hair.

“Why did you stop?” Nicolò asked not five minutes later.

“You were asleep,” Yusuf said with a small laugh.

“I was listening,” Nicolò said, though he didn’t dispute the accusation. “You can keep going. If you’d like.”

Yusuf didn’t pick up the book again, instead choosing to recite from memory.

_ He is before me _

_ Always ahead and never behind _

_ He guides my every step, my every breath _

_ I turn my eyes to him in all things  _

_ for why would I choose to glance away or look behind _

_ when the light of heaven is before me _

Nicolò finally opened his eyes and stared up at Yusuf. He nudged at Yusuf’s belly with the side of his head before he spoke. “You wrote that.”

“I-” Yusuf started, almost tempted to deny it. “How could you tell?”

“You weren’t reading from the book.”

“I could simply have memorized another’s work.”

Nicolò turned his head to press a kiss to the inside of Yusuf’s wrist. He smiled up at him as he spoke, “it sounds like you- like your letters.”

Yusuf leaned down and pulled Nicolò up to meet him.

\---

That night Nicolò cooked while Yusuf tried to help but mostly just struggled not to become frustrated with honey getting all over his hands.

In the end though, the budino di riso and honeyed walnuts were sweet and light. Very different from the savory and spicy meal they had enjoyed the previous night, though no less delicious.

Getting ready for bed was far less awkward and tense, and they settled in together for the second time as easily as if they had been sleeping together every night for the previous three years.

Yusuf was on his back with Nicolò’s head on his chest. Nicolò was idly drawing shapes in the hair on his chest with the tips of his fingers. Neither of them had talked for quite some time and the fire was beginning to dwindle.

Nicolò paused his caressing and grew very still. Yusuf would have thought he had fallen asleep if not for how Nicolò’s entire body tensed up. The next thing Yusuf knew, Nicolò was on top of him straddling his hips, and very visibly aroused.

“You don’t have to-” Yusuf started.

“I’m not. I just-” Nicolò started to say, but then he cut himself off as he rocked himself down against the evidence of Yusuf’s arousal and both men groaned.

Yusuf felt light headed as Nicolò repeated the motion and they both cried out in unison again.

“Is this alright?” Nicolò asked breathlessly. He fell forward slightly, placing his hands on Yusuf’s chest for balance. Yusuf could only nod and grab Nicolò’s hips as he rubbed against him again.

Yusuf may not have ever coupled with anyone, but he was not unfamiliar with the pleasure such activities could bring. He had touched himself with his love’s name on his lips more times than he could possibly remember, and knew Nicolò had done that same. But this- this was something else entirely.

With every rock of Nicolò’s hips the familiar heat in his groin grew. It was somehow the same but so much more. He felt the build up in his gut deeper than he was used to, he felt it more acutely, and he felt it for longer. What surprised him the most though was when he was sure his pleasure would burst from him it didn’t, it kept climbing higher and spreading deeper within him.

He tried to focus on Nicolò above him, the way he moved and gasped with every thrust. But the thin linen of their undergarments barely created a barrier between them and he could think of little else but the sensation of their cocks moving against one another. 

Nicolò’s breathing became more labored and Yusuf realized that he was making soft  _ ah  _ noises with every rock of their hips. The mounting sensations finally reached a height that he could no longer contain and he spilled into his braies, repeating  _ I love you, I love you, I love you,  _ over and over.

Nicolò looked down at him with wide, nearly black eyes and followed him over the edge not thirty seconds later. Yusuf hadn’t even recovered from his own climax when he felt the damp warmth soak into the cloth that was pressed into the skin at his hip with every thrust.

Nicolò leaned his forehead down to rest against Yusuf’s shoulder breathing heavily. Yusuf shook his head, and smiled. He ran his hands over Nicolò’s shoulder blades and hugged him close, forcing Nicolò to relax the weight of his body onto Yusuf.

“We seem to be walking a fine line,” Yusuf said once he felt like he had caught his breath.

Nicolò rolled off of Yusuf and though they were covered with a blanket he could tell that Nicolò was removing his soiled braies.

“Next time I will be more prepared.”

“I don’t need more than this,” Yusuf protested. He regretted having admitted that he wanted more, the last thing he wanted was for Nicolò to feel pressured into doing more than he wanted in order to please him.

“I don’t either- but I want more. I want you Yusuf. I do,” Nicolò said. He rolled to face Yusuf and tentatively ran his fingers along the waist of Yusuf’s braies. “I trust you, and if you say you can protect me, then I believe you.”

Yusuf could feel himself swelling once more as Nicolò pulled on the tie at his waist.

“Not tonight,” Yusuf grabbed Nicolò’s wrist.

“I love you, I’m ready.”

“Well then I am not-” Yusuf closed his eyes and sighed when Nicolò froze and looked at him with confusion in his yes, “I just don’t want you to regret anything between us.”

Nicolò opened his mouth like he was going to respond but Yusuf cut him off, “Just- just not tonight.”

“Alright,” Nicolò said, and Yusuf hoped he understood.

His hand was still sitting atop the waist of his undergarment. Yusuf pulled them off before he overthink it.

“Now we’re even,” Yusuf said in response to Nicolò’s continued look of confusion.

Nicolò rolled his eyes, and laid his head on Yusuf’s chest once more. “Walking a fine line indeed.”

\---

They had fallen asleep in much the same manner as the previous night, with Nicolò’s back pressed to his front. As Yusuf came to consciousness on the second morning though, everything else was different. 

The room was warm, a fire having been relit in the hearth, and Yusuf was completely naked, not even a blanket covered him, probably having kicked it off as the room grew hotter. His arms were empty, and as he opened his eyes and looked around, he couldn’t see Nicolò anywhere in the small room. 

Yusuf wasn’t quite sure why he had stopped things from going forward. Perhaps it was because he felt like there would be no turning back from that threshold once it was crossed. Which even as he thought it felt like a lie. In truth, Yusuf was scared that he wouldn’t be able to leave Nicolò once he had coupled with him. All he felt now was regret at not taking advantage of what little time they had. If Nicolò still wanted him in the light of day then Yusuf wouldn’t stop it this time.

Yusuf might have worried over the previous night for much longer, but the door to the cottage opened and Nicolò stepped in carrying the basket he had brought food in on the first day.

He had set down the basket and taken off his shoes before he noticed Yusuf watching him.

“You’re awake,” Nicolò observed. His brows creased and Yusuf couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “I wanted to be back before you woke up,” Nicolò said, disappointment obvious in his voice.

“You’re here now,” Yusuf said.

He almost opened his arms to try and coax Nicolò back into bed when he remembered that he was decidedly more naked than Nicolò. He grabbed the blanket from where it had been pushed to the foot of the bed sometime in the night.

“Wait. I-” Nicolò said. He took a step toward the bed and laughed quietly. “I wanted to be back before you woke up,” he repeated.

Yusuf had some idea of where Nicolò was going with this and he abandoned the blanket at the base of the bed. He still feeling a bit embarrassed at his nakedness, but he tried to ignore it and focus on the prospect of getting Nicolò naked again. He cocked an eyebrow at Nicolò and leaned back on his hands.

Nicolò reached into the basket and tossed something at Yusuf which he barely moved in time to catch. Yusuf looked down at the object in his hands and found an orange as large as his fist. When he looked back up Nicolò was already working at the ties of his doublet.

“Peel that,” he said as he shrugged off the outer shirt.

Yusuf obliged, though he found it difficult not to simply stare at Nicolò disrobing. He suspected that asking him to peel the orange was a distraction though, so he stared diligently at the fruit in his hands until he felt the bed dip next to him.

“So your plan was to deliver fresh oranges and not have me question where you got them when you were still naked?” Yusuf asked. He popped a piece of orange into his mouth. Nicolò’s eyes followed the movement and then darted away to focus on his own orange.

“I had not thought that far ahead,” Nicolò said.

“Obviously,” Yusuf said as he plucked the half peeled orange from Nicolò’s hands. He took a piece from his own orange and held it out for Nicolò to take. “We only need one of these at a time.”

Nicolò stared back at the orange for a moment, Yusuf saw his hand twitch but then he leaned forward and let Yusuf place the fruit between his lips. Instead of taking the entire piece he bit it in half, and left the rest in Yusuf’s hand. Nicolò’s tongue licked his bottom lip, even as some of the juice ran down his chin. He wiped the excess juice off with the back of his hand, and took the second half of the piece of orange out of Yusuf’s hand.

Yusuf expected him to eat it or take another bite, instead he held it up to his mouth and licked at it lightly. His mouth went dry and he leaned forward to capture the lips of his love with his own. Nicolò abandoned the piece of orange and ran his juice-sticky hands over Yusuf’s back. 

He reached around Nicolò as they continued to taste the orange in each other’s mouths. Sure enough he found the dagger Nicolò had stashed under his pillow for the previous two nights.

“Lean back,” Yusuf said with his lips still touching Nicolò’s.

Nicolò practically scrambled excitedly to lay down against the pillows. He eyed the knife in Yusuf’s hand with amusement and said, “I hope you don’t plan on using that on me.”

“Never.” Yusuf found the orange he had taken from Nicolò and cut it in half, before tossing the dagger away from them to the foot of the bed.

He nudged Nicolò’s legs apart and kneeled between them. It wasn’t until that moment that he really took in the fact that they were both naked and aroused and it certainly wasn’t until he leaned over and held the orange-half over Nicolò’s navel that he considered that things would move further than they had the previous night.

They had always been passionate in their physical affection for each other, but there was something new in Nicolò’s eyes that made Yusuf pause. It could have been apprehension, but then he bit his lip and placed a hand on Yusuf’s arm and he knew the look was actually lust.

Yusuf slowly squeezed the orange and watched as the juice from it sprayed down onto Nicolò in a fine mist. It collected into small droplets on his skin and Yusuf watched a single drop drip down into Nicolò’s navel. How could he resist that? He leaned down trying to ignore the fact that Nicolò’s hard cock was pressed to his chest in this position and darted his tongue against the skin, teasing the faint citrus as he licked.

Nicolò moaned above him, and that spurred Yusuf on. He kissed and nipped at the sticky skin and relished in the way his abdomen began to quiver and contract with each new thing Yusuf tried.

Yusuf watched a drop of juice begin to trail it’s way down the side of his body toward the bed. He leaned up to capture the drop with his mouth and press an open mouth kiss to Nicolò’s hip.

“Yusuf.”

He looked up to see Nicolò staring down at him, his bottom lip pink and wet from where he’d been biting it. His eyes were practically sparkling with desperation and unfallen tears. Yusuf wouldn’t make him beg, nor did he think he had it in him to continue to hold back much longer.

He sat back and stared down at Nicolò, hard before him. There was already a drop forming at the head of his cock, no unlike the drops he had just been licking off of his love’s skin. He looked back at Nicolò who looked positively wrecked, taking uneven breaths as he returned the gaze with his striking eyes.

Finally, he wrapped a hand around Nicolò’s length and watched as a shudder coursed through him.

“I’ll stop whenever you want,” Yusuf whispered.

“Then we will-” Nicolò sucked in a shaky breath as Yusuf shifted to lay down on his stomach, “we will be here for a very long time.”

Yusuf laughed lightly at the love of his life managing to make jokes, even right then, and he finally took him into his mouth.

Coupling with Nicolò was indescribable. He may have been able to describe the weight on his tongue, or what he tasted when his love finally spilled down his throat, but he could never hope to capture the entire feeling with words, not if he wrote a thousand poems for that one moment.

It was perfect, incandescent devotion and adoration. It was love.


	9. Summertime Part 3 - The Reveal

Life moved on too fast when they returned from the cottage. The final ten days of Yusuf’s stay in Genova were just as busy as the first ten had been.

They saw each other every day, but would spend only minutes together, sharing a few hurried kisses and whispered words of love.

On the day before Yusuf was set to depart with his father for Rome, his father brought him to the same training ground where he had surprised Nicolò when he arrived. He hadn’t realized that would be a problem until it was too late and a dozen pairs of vaguely familiar eyes turned toward him, and recognition spread across each of their faces in turn.

Last to turn to him was Nicolò, whose face showed joy for a brief moment when he set eyes on Yusuf, but it was quickly replaced by worry and fear when he saw the crown on Yusuf’s head and his father standing beside him.

“Go enjoy yourself,” his father said, gesturing toward the training ground, “I have some matters to attend to.”

Yusuf removed his crown and handed it to Andromache who gave him a brief look of pity, before he set off across the field. Nicolò met him halfway.

“Why is your father speaking with mine?” Nicolò asked.

Yusuf glanced back across the field and sure enough his father was standing next to Nicolò’s, both of them seemed to be taking their conversation very seriously.

“I- I do not know,” Yusuf said. “I did not think they had ever met.”

“Well, this can only mean something truly terrible or wonderful is about to happen. I’m leaning toward the former.”

Nicolò gave him a sad smile as he led him over to a pile of wooden practice swords and shields.

Yusuf knew that Nicolò preferred longswords and crossbows, but instead he picked up a practice scimitar and handed it to him. 

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Nicolò asked, glancing back at their fathers who were still speaking to one another. He took a knee in front of Yusuf and began unfastening his belt to slip on a scabbard. He was singularly focused on the task at hand, moving his hands deftly, not pausing to touch or flirt.

“I promised nothing would happen to you Nicolò,” Yusuf said, guessing that Nicolò must be having similar thoughts to those he had mentioned back in the cottage.

“I know,” Nicolò whispered as he finished strapping the scabbard to Yusuf’s hip, “there are worse things though.” He let his hand linger on Yusuf’s thigh for a moment before standing up.

Worse things? Worse than Nicolò being punished because Yusuf couldn’t control his lust for a few more hours at the cottage. Surely no one knew what they had done though, how could they? 

He supposed they could be barred from seeing one another, but they hardly saw each other as it was and they could hardly be kept from writing letters. At least he was fairly certain they couldn't be. Yusuf would find a way to communicate with Nicolò no matter what.

Nicolò picked up a practice longsword and walked out onto an empty part of the field, Yusuf followed close behind.

“If this is it,” Nicolò started. He raised his sword, a clear invitation for Yusuf to attack. “If this is the last time I see you-”

“Wait- hold for a moment, that’s not what this is.”

“If it is, then I need to tell you that I love you.” He was still standing with his sword in his hand like he still expected Yusuf to make any move to try and strike him. Yusuf could see tears welling up in his eyes. “I need you to know that I- that you-”

“Nicolò-” Yusuf drew the scimitar strapped to his hip and let it fall unceremoniously to the ground. “Nicolò that is not what is happening. They may know some of what’s going on, or even all of it, but this isn’t a goodbye. Nothing will keep me from you, nothing.”

One moment Nicolò was standing tall and strong, sword in hand and nodding at Yusuf like he believed him, the next his sword fell from his hands and he let out a small sob as he fell to his knees in the middle of the field.

Yusuf was on his knees in front of Nicolò within seconds and wrapping his arms around him. Nicolò buried his face in Yusuf's shoulder. It was muffled, but he was sure Nicolò was crying.

“It’s alright,” Yusuf said quietly, but he wasn’t sure he believed that himself.

He glanced around them quickly. Every other person on the training field was staring at them, most of them looked utterly bewildered. Yusuf knew that Nicolò was less guarded around him. He guessed that between their reunion three weeks prior and his current state of panic, most of them had seen more emotion out of Nicolò in the past month than in the entire time they’d known him.

Nicolò’s peers didn’t concern him though, what did was the fact that their fathers were making their way across the field to them.

“Nicolò, look at me,” Yusuf said.

Nicolò leaned back, but only as much as it took to look him in the eye, keeping as much of himself in contact with Yusuf as possible. His eyes were already red from crying. Yusuf moved his hands to cradle Nicolò’s face, wiping away tears with his thumbs.

“It’s alright,” Yusuf said again, “no matter what, this isn’t goodbye.”

“I love you so much,” Nicolò choked out. His eyes went wide and as he looked over Yusuf’s shoulder.

“Yusuf, get up,” his father’s voice cut through the steady gasps that Nicolò was making.

“Don’t do this, please.” Yusuf pleaded. He looked up at his father, his king, and decided he was not above begging, “please don’t make me leave him like this.”

“You really think I would be so cruel?” His father’s eyes softened a little. “You’re in public. Now get up and follow me. Both of you.”

“Father?” Nicolò said, looking to him for approval.

“It’s alright, Nico.”

Yusuf had hardly spoken to Nicolò’s father when he had been at French court. He knew him to be a stoic but kind man, not unlike his son. He hoped his assessment was not misplaced.

\---

“I do not know how you two could be so careless. That was completely inappropriate behavior for a public place, no matter who you are, but Yusuf, you are the crown prince of Tunisia. What if word got out that you had been off cavorting with someone who is not your intended? And for years! This was extremely irresponsible and I expected better from you.”

Yusuf's father hardly ever raised his voice, and even then he was completely steady, but the disappointment and shame was still there.

Nicolò was standing behind Yusuf’s father and next to his own on the other side of the room. He was staring at his feet and hadn’t looked up since they’d been led in there.

“May I say something?” Yusuf asked.

“Please, I would love for you to explain yourself.”

“Thank you.” Yusuf swallowed, trying to stave off his panic. “First, I very much intended to marry Nicolò, so calling him not my intended is inaccurate, regardless of whether you approve or not.”

Nicolò finally looked up at him, his eyes were still red, but he was no longer crying. He did look shocked at Yusuf’s declaration though. Yusuf’s father betrayed no change of emotion, though Yusuf was sure there was anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Second, I have already lain with him, and fully intend to do so again. But my time spent with him could hardly be called cavorting. Every moment I spend with him is the honor of my life, and I live every moment we are apart for when I will be lucky enough to see him again.”

Yusuf knew this was a risk, but he hoped and prayed that it was a risk that would pay off.

“Well it is good to know for certain that Sir. Merrick’s squire was not lying, though I’d prefer that he had been,” Yusuf’s father said.

“Keane did this?” Nicolò said, speaking up for the first time since they were still on the training field. “That son of a bitch.”

“Nicolò!” Nicolò’s father exclaimed.

Nicolò looked sideways at his father before turning his eyes back to Yusuf, he finally looked more angry than scared, which was an odd comfort to take, but Yusuf would welcome any tiny victory he could.

Yusuf’s father sighed and looked back at Sir Marco before facing his son once more.

“We will discuss this later,” he pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing, “we leave tomorrow with the morning tide, that hasn’t changed.” 

Yusuf tried his best to keep his face as steady and stoic as possible.

“Whatever you may think of me Yusuf, I am not unfeeling. I’ll give you time to say goodbye now, but I think it’s best that we end it there.”

“No,” Nicolò breathed out at the same time that Yusuf started shouting at his father.

“Not unfeeling? You would rip us from each other and destroy the one true happiness in my life for the sake of what? Your pride? Or mine? I don’t want my pride, I want him!”

“Yusuf, do not overreact, I only mean to end it there for now,” his father said. He was entirely too controlled for the hatred that was forming in his heart toward his father. “Let us return home. You may still write to one another, and in time perhaps see each other once again. For now though, say your farewells.”

Yusuf's father gestured for Nicolò’s father to follow him out the door and just like that then they were alone.

They moved as soon as the door closed, Yusuf finally wrapping his arms around his love once more.

“So I will not be hung as a traitor, but perhaps for murder,” Nicolò said eventually.

Yusuf leaned back enough to give Nicolò a skeptical look.

“Keane, the squire who reported us, you’ve met him, he’s the one who tackled me on the training field on your first day in Genova.” Nicolò let out a hollow laugh.

“Please don’t murder anyone,” Yusuf said. He let Nicolò go and looked down at his hands which were starting to tremble uncontrollably. He tried to speak again but his voice caught in his throat.

“Yusuf, breathe,” Nicolò said quietly. Yusuf obeyed, trying to steady himself.

“I don’t- I don’t-”

“It’s alright, we’re alright.”

“I know that, so why am I-” He looked down at his hands, which were still shaking. His head was starting to spin.

“I’ve seen this happen to soldiers after a fight. Once you’re out of harm’s way, it’s like you can finally panic because you aren’t in danger any more.”

Yusuf nodded, not really understanding, but trusting that Nicolò knew what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that on your own. That’s never happened to me before,” Nicolò said, and grabbed one of Yusuf’s still trembling hands.

Yusuf shook his head, and then laughed, “we’re a mess.”

“We’re in love,” Nicolò added simply.

There was a light knock on the door that he recognized as belonging to Andromache. Their time was almost up.

Yusuf hugged Nicolò close once more and tried to calm himself, he needed to be able to focus on bidding his love farewell. He refused to let his father’s meddling ruin this as well.

He clung to Nicolò until another knock, this one a bit more forceful and loud, spurred them to pull apart.

“I will remember these past few weeks for the rest of my life,” Nicolò said. The corner of his lips turned up, but his eyes were sad.

“Don’t say that like we’ll never be together again,” Yusuf said, he tried his best to act like his normal self when he added, “we still have so many things to try.”

Nicolò shook his head slightly, but his small smile finally reached his eyes. Yusuf pulled him into another hug, knowing it was the last one before he had to leave. He held Nicolò tight against his body, his impending departure hitting him all at once.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered.

“And I you,” Nicolò answered.

Nicolò pulled back even as Yusuf tightened his arms reflexively around his shoulders.

“Just get to imagining all the ways we can spend our next meeting,” Nicolò said. He placed his hands on either side of Yusuf’s face.

Yusuf closed his eyes, willing tears not to fall and trying to memorize the way Nicolò’s thumbs felt slowly stroking his cheeks.

He flinched slightly when he felt Nicolò’s lips touch his lightly.

“Look at me, Yusuf,” Nicolò whispered as he pulled away.

Yusuf obeyed and opened his eyes, taking in as much of the beauty of the man before him as he could.

“I love you,” Nicolò said, expectantly.

“I’m not ready,” Yusuf said, unashamed to be begging. Though who he was begging he wasn’t quite sure. God, perhaps? Or the universe?

“I know, neither am I, but it is happening all the same.”

“I can’t leave you again.”

“Yusuf, please,” Nicolò said, a faint hint of desperation seeping into his voice.

“I- I love you too.”

“And?”

“I’ll never- never love another,” Yusuf answered, his voice practically disappearing as he struggled to keep from losing his grip on his emotions.

Nicolò closed his eyes and smiled, “I always picture you saying it when I read those words, hearing it from your lips is so much better.”

Yusuf watched him open his eyes again, watched those beautiful pale eyes find his and watched the spark of sadness appear in them just before he spoke again, “now go.”

“But-” Yusuf started but Nicolò cut him off.

“I love you, I always will and we’ll see each other again. Sooner this time, I know it. But if you don’t walk out that door right now I’m scared I’ll beg you to run away with me and I don’t think either of us have the strength to resist that temptation right now.” Nicolò squeezed his hand one time, dropped it, stepped back and gestured at the door. “Now go,” he repeated. The forced lightness of his voice did little to hide the desperation in it, but Yusuf still appreciated the attempt to make things easier.

Yusuf nodded. Even though every part of him was begging to stay, he knew he couldn’t. Even though it felt utterly wrong to take a step back, he did. Even with his mind railing against him, he knowingly took one last look at Nicolò.

Yusuf took one last deep breath with his eyes locked on Nicolò’s. He committed their color to memory, then he turned and walked out the door.


	10. 1439

_ September 15th 1439 _

_ Nicolò, the very root of my heart, _

_ Rome is dull and grey. _

_ I am told it is a large and vibrant city, but I saw none of that, no matter how often my father forced me out into the city. Color was gone from the world the moment I left you behind in Genova. _

_ I am so grateful for the weeks we had. Being able to spend time together like we did that first summer but as we are now, as two men in love, is something I will treasure forever. I could never hope to describe with words how it felt to see you day after day after day. I suppose I am lucky that you are the one person who knows exactly how it felt. _

_ I fear now that it will be harder than ever to stay apart from you for any length of time. I spent every night in Rome laying awake in bed thinking of every possible way I could see you again. Though I have no plans as of yet, I am determined to see you again before a year has passed. If you have any thoughts on the matter I would be grateful for the help. _

_ I have been home for only two days and alas have little to report on the comings and goings of my life since I left your side.  _

_ My father has yet to speak with me about us but I have not brought up the issue either. I know this will not simply go away, but I still hope it does. _

_ I suppose I will end this short letter by reminding you of my love, and telling you that I miss you. _

_ I love you. I miss you. _

_ I wait impatiently for your reply. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf  _

**\---**

September 28th 1439

Yusuf,

The weeks since you left have been much the same for me. My thoughts are utterly consumed with plans of seeing you again. I do have one idea, I suspect that my father will see fit to knight me sometime in the next year, perhaps you could return to Genova for that?

Did you hear from Sébastien? In case you have not, he and Nicolette have just welcomed their second son and named him Victor. It is strange to see our dear friend in such a different stage of his life. I do not know why I am telling you this, if I have received this news then surely you have as well. 

I suppose any other topic is better than the one I must remind you of now:

My father has spoken with me at length and on multiple occasions since you left. He mostly seeks to dissuade me from pursuing you, and seems convinced that you will set me aside for another.

I do worry sometimes that I am holding you back from finding what Sébastien has.

I know you love me and I do not wish to drive you into another’s arms -just the thought of it alone turns my stomach- but I can not deny that I feel a sense of guilt at keeping you from such a union.

I hope that by telling you this I have not caused undue stress, but I do not want to drive myself to the place of hopelessness I found myself in two years ago.

I will be yours for as long as you will have me. I only lament our situation. Again.

Perhaps I should not worry. Hard though it is to be parted for such lengths of time, I know that I can bear it as long as you will be waiting for me at the other end.

I miss you, my prince, my heart is forever yours,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ October 11th 1439 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ I do not know where to begin. _

_ I suppose I should just come right out and say it. _

_ My father has agreed to a marriage contract for me and intends to have me married to the daughter of a wealthy and well connected merchant from Rome. _

_ I suppose it was naïve of me to think this would never happen, but then again I have always been a bit of a dreamer. I still  _ _ held _ _ hold out hope that this marriage will not come to pass. I still hope that it will be you that I take to my bed someday, and not this stranger who I have no interest in knowing. _

_ I’m scared. In truth I am terrified of what this means for us. _

_ I do not know what to do. Tell me what to do. If you ask me to run away with you, I will. Or I could find some way to bring you to court after you are knighted and no longer bound to your father. _

_ Tell me. Anything. Whatever you want, tell me and it's yours, Nicolò. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

  
  


_ November 25th 1439 _

_ Nicolò, the moon when I’m lost in the darkness, _

_ My father says that my intended will be coming to court in the new year… He says there is no set date for the wedding but I feel like it must be soon if he intends to bring her here so quickly. _

_ I know this must be hard for you to hear and process. So I am sure this is a selfish thing to ask right now, but I need to hear from you. _

_ Please. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf  _

**\---**

_ December 30th 1439 _

_ Nicolò, my love, _

_ I do not know how to write this letter without sounding as nervous as I am.  _

_ We have said many times that the length between letters did not dimension our love, but after the contents of my previous two letters I am rather desperate to hear from you again. _

_ I have asked many people for news from Genova and heard nothing out of the ordinary, so I do not think you were suddenly summoned to duty. Though I suppose that gives you some insight into how the last three months have caused my mind to fabricate the most dire of situations. _

_ I continue to tell myself that you are simply busy- you did say in your last letter that you thought your father would knight you soon, I can’t imagine how much work must go into that. But no matter how often I tell myself not to worry I cannot help but think that something has happened.  _

_ Please write to me… if only to let me know that you are alright. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf  _

_ I’m sorry- if I could stop this from happening, I would. Please know that I would. _


	11. The Difference Between Companions and Turtle Doves

The first words out of Yusuf’s mouth when he saw his intended for the first time were, “father, you can not be serious.”

The woman in front of him was barely of age. She flinched when Yusuf spoke, though she looked more angry than scared or sad.

“Yusuf, control yourself,” his father hissed at him under his breath.

“She is a child,” Yusuf shot back.

Probably because he’d had enough of Yusuf’s worsening mood in the six months since they had left Genova, his father didn’t respond. He simply waited for the young woman’s father to make his introductions.

“Your highnesses, may I present my daughter, Nile.”

The man before them gestured to his daughter who gave a small curtsey. She didn’t dip her head like Yusuf would have expected. Instead she stared -no, glared- at Yusuf the entire time. She had fire within her, he had to give her that.

Their fathers began to speak about some trade agreement or another, Yusuf tuned them out easily, a skill he had been perfecting over the previous three years. Nile stood dutifully by her father’s side; if she was letting her mind wander as Yusuf was, she was doing a much better job of hiding it.

His father shot him more than one irritated glance, but Yusuf couldn’t bring himself to care.

He had once had a good relationship with his father, close, even. He wasn’t sure exactly when that all changed. It could have been the first time he told his son that he would not allow him to marry for love. It also could have been when he shipped his only son and heir away to be raised in another country because he was too  _ spirited.  _ It could have been any number of reasons, but it had been a long time since he felt any affection for his father.

Recent events had exacerbated the problem, but they were not the root.

Nile’s eyes flicked over to him multiple times as their fathers continued to speak. She still had the same guarded, almost angry expression. He had little incentive to feel shame those days and stared back at her without faltering, he was sure his face gave away no emotion.

He lasted all of ten minutes before he could not be bothered to pretend like he cared about the conversation anymore and he left without a word.

He didn't see his father or Nile again for three days after that. He rejected every invitation to meals and outright refused to go to his father even when directly summoned. Yusuf didn’t care, what could the man do to him that he hadn’t done already?

Nile found him in the gardens on the fourth day.

He was sitting on a stone bench under the shade of an olive tree. He had a small journal in his hands and was attempting, unsuccessfully, to put Nicolò’s profile to paper.

“I’m seventeen, I’m not a child.”

Yusuf was sure she was trying to sound mature, but instead she just sounded indignant.

“That does not make this better,” Yusuf said, trying to hide his anger as best he could. This was not her fault.

She hovered above him for a few minutes before turning and leaving him in peace.

She made a habit of finding him under the olive tree every day after that. He didn’t mind so much, she was mostly a silent annoyance, one he could mostly ignore as he focused on capturing every aspect of Nicolò that he could within the pages of the journal.

At the end of Nile’s second week in Tunis his father finally demanded that Yusuf attend dinner the night before Nile’s father was set to return to Rome.

His entire family was at the dinner; his mother, both his sisters and their spouses. Nile’s father was seated next to the king, which put Nile directly across from Yusuf. By design, he had no doubt.

The fact that his mother and sisters were present made the meal not overly awkward, but Yusuf made a point to only speak when he was directly spoken to, and even then he kept his responses as short as possible. He knew he was acting childish, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Nile mostly stared down at her meal and seemed to be employing the same technique as Yusuf in not speaking unless she absolutely could not help it.

The meal ended and Yusuf decided he would gamble on the hope that his father was satisfied enough that he had made an appearance at the meal and left without saying goodnight to anyone. 

He left the dinning hall and was surprised to find Nile standing in the hallway, he hadn’t even noticed she’d left.

She was staring up at a painting that Yusuf was all too familiar with. A portrait of his family from years prior. His father and mother both smiling, he was still a child, not yet ten. In the painting his sister’s were standing next to him, though he was fairly certain he remembered them being painted separately as they were too young and lacked the patience to hold still with the rest of the family.

Yusuf stopped next to Nile, he was about to attempt to make small talk about the painting when she spoke.

“The years have not been kind to you,” she said, not taking her eyes off the portrait.

“Excuse me?” Yusuf asked, taken aback.

“I see a little boy full of life and love, I do not think I have seen you smile once since I arrived.”

It was true that in the painting he was sporting what could have been considered his signature grin- until recently that was.

“Yes, you have,” Yusuf said simply.

“What?”

“You’ve seen me smile, I know you have. You watch me draw in the gardens.”

Yusuf was acutely aware that the only time he let his guard down these days was in trying to capture Nicolò’s beauty, if only because he couldn’t quite get him right and he couldn’t be bothered to think about anything else but his love as he drew.

Nile didn’t speak for a long time after that, she just stared up at the painting. Yusuf was about to bid her goodnight and leave when she spoke again.

“You love him, don’t you?” Nile asked.

“I-” Yusuf started. No one had talked to him about Nicolò in months. His father certainly hadn’t, and with the sudden and worrying absence of letters from Nicolò himself, drawing him had become a way to stay close to him.

Nile finally turned to face him, “Is he dead?”

The bluntness of her question actually caused him to huff out a laugh, however hollow.

“No, thank god,” Yusuf said.

Nile nodded and turned back to the painting, her expression nearly unreadable. Yusuf couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity for her in that moment.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Nile, none of this is your fault.” Yusuf sighed and turned his back on the painting, “but I don’t want to give you a false sense of hope either.”

Nile followed Yusuf’s lead, turning away from the painting and leaning up against the wall. She crossed her arms and waited patiently.

“I’m never going to love you in that way, I can’t. Even if I could, I don’t want to.” Even as the words left his mouth Yusuf flinched at their callousness. “I’m sorry,” he added hastily.

Nile laughed lightly, a reaction that Yusuf had not expected.

“In truth, Yusuf, I am relieved to hear you say that,” she said. She pushed herself away from the wall and turned to face him. “I always imagined myself having a great love story and while I might be able to enjoy your company someday -perhaps if you stopped scowling at me every time I entered a room- I do not think I could grow to love you. Not in that way.”

Yusuf felt a relief wash over him that he had never hoped to feel. Maybe not everything was as hopeless as it seemed. If Nile was against this marriage as well, they could stall it for a while, at least. Maybe even put a stop to it all together.

“For now, can we at least agree to be friends?” Nile asked after a moment.

“Yes, Nile, I think I’d like that.”

“We should get to know each other better,” Nile said. She gave him a small, sweet smile, the first he had seen from her since she arrived. “Would you tell me about him? The man you draw?”

“Yes,” Yusuf said with a smile, “I think I’d like that too.”


	12. 1440

February 2nd 1440

Yusuf,

You don’t need to worry, I am alright.

I just need time.

Nicolò

**\---**

February 13th 1440

Yusuf-

I’ve written to you with news that I am sure you will find more interesting than this, but I must be selfish and tell you something first: Nicolette is expecting our third child within the next few months. I would love to have you visit and meet my children sometime soon. Perhaps I could organize a reason to have our mutual friend be in attendance as well?

I cannot pretend to know exactly what is going on between you and him, but from what little I’ve gleaned from both of your letters and my father, I think I have some idea.

I hope you know (that you both know) how much I wish for things to work themselves out. I know my words mean little and that I have no real power to change minds or situations, but I feel optimistic for you.

In utterly unconnected news, have you heard that there will be a knighting ceremony in Genova at the end of March? Apparently a young squire of some skill will be being knighted. I have had correspondence with him in the past. I hope it is not too presumptuous of me to say that he is exactly the type of man you have always shown favor for.

He has lamented to me many times recently that he longs for someone with your exact description. Particularly since this past summer came to an end.

He seems to have some assumptions about situations that I don’t think you are aware of.

I know I will see you soon- it is an important occasion after all.

Your friend and brother,

Sébastien

I will feel exceedingly stupid if you do not catch the meaning of my dubious descriptions.


	13. We are Destined

Sébastien was not as subtle as he thought he was. Of course Yusuf knew he was writing to him about Nicolò. The information contained within Sébastien’s letter was extremely useful, though. He would have to find a way to thank his friend for the presence of mind to write to Yusuf when he did. 

He received the letter in mid March and as it did not contain an exact date of the accolade he knew he had precious little time to figure out how to get there.

Nile and Yusuf had grown surprisingly close in the two months she had been at court. It became clear quite quickly that they were both frustrated with their current situation. She was the one who suggested he just go when she found him panicking under the olive tree.

_ “You love him. Honestly, Yusuf, with how you talk about him, I might be a little bit in love with the man. Go. I’ll cover for you as much as I can, and I’m sure Andromache would be willing to help as well. Go, damn the consequences.” _

Nile and Andromache suspected they could cover for him for at least a few days, he’d already made a habit of avoiding members of his family and staying holed up in his rooms for hours or days at a time.

So Yusuf went.

He was in disguise and on a merchant ship that night.

Five days later he stood on the deck of the ship looking at a familiar sight to the one he’d seen the previous summer, Genova. Yusuf helped the sailors bring the ship into port, and no one told him not to help that time. It was refreshing.

Nile cut Yusuf’s hair rather short and he had completely shaved off his beard before he left. After five days of regrowth, however, he knew he already had scratchy stubble, though nothing as thick as the way he normally wore his beard. There were few people in the city who knew what he looked like but it wasn’t worth the risk to boldly show up looking like himself.

His first thought when stepping off the boat was to immediately try and find Nicolò at the training ground. It was a strange thing to have such recent memories of where to find him. The ship arrived in Genova in the evening and the sun was already hanging low in the sky. As much as he wanted to go find Nicolò right that moment, he was exhausted and needed to find somewhere to sleep for the night.

He was already halfway out of the city when he realized he was walking toward the cottage. He was well and truly out of Genova and hiking up the hill and towards the bluff where the cottage sat before the sun disappeared completely.

He had no backup plan, so he was relieved when he found no one occupying the small house. The door was locked, but Yusuf was able to get the window open and crawl through it into the cold empty room easily enough.

It looked mostly untouched, though Yusuf suspected that it was hard to change anything when there were so few items there to begin with. The only thing that told him other people had been there at all was the large pile of wood next to the hearth.

He had traveled light, with a dagger strapped to his hip and a small pack on his back. He placed the pack next to the bed and the dagger under a pillow. He started trying to stack wood in a way that he  _ thought  _ would help yield a decent fire before he realized he had no flint with which to light it.

He sat back and finally let where he was hit him. The small cottage felt impossibly large and empty without Nicolò there to help fill the space.

It was hard not to let his mind wander to Nicolò. It had only been a few months and yet everything felt different. 

It was also hard not to let his mind wander to his father. Things were different with him as well.

Yusuf ran a hand over his newly shortened hair and tilted his head back with a sigh. This was probably the single most rash decision he had ever made. He suspected he would feel the consequences of his actions when he returned home.

He glanced at the bed. It was already late when he arrived at the cottage and he wanted to get an early start the next morning, but the prospect of sleeping in  _ that _ bed alone made Yusuf’s stomach turn. No, he couldn’t sleep there alone, not this bed. Any other bed- every bed for the rest of his life if Nicolò’s silence and subsequent cryptic message meant what he feared it did, but not this one. This one was theirs- it had to be.

He pulled a blanket from the bed and curled up on the ground beside it with his pack under his head. 

He tried not to think of what he would do if Nicolò was done with him. He tried not to cry as he stared up at the dark ceiling of the cottage. He failed on both accounts. 

\---

Yusuf woke up stiff the next morning, but he didn’t regret the decision not to mar their bed with his tears. He only wanted to remember Nicolò with him in the bed, not the pain and desperation that spilled out of him once he was curled up on the floor.

He didn’t linger inside the cottage, he hoped he wouldn’t need to sleep there the next night. He plucked an orange from the tree outside and ate it as he walked back into the city.

Yusuf wasn’t surprised to find the docks bustling when he arrived, it was early, but fishermen woke with the sun.

Yusuf wasn’t sure what the best course of action was. A single squire getting knighted was not the type of thing the general public would care about so he didn’t know how to find out when the ceremony was taking place, let alone if he had already missed it.

He could go to Nicolò’s house, he knew where it was, but the chance that Yusuf would run into another member of his family was too great to risk. The training ground also felt dangerous, every person on the field that fateful day knew who he was, and he was sure anyone else that wasn’t there heard about it as well.

Yusuf was still turning over various ideas in his mind when he was stopped in his tracks.

Nicolò was standing not fifty feet from him speaking with someone. Yusuf was frozen, he had expected to need an elaborate plan to find him, to steal time, not to bump into him on his first morning there.

Nicolò looked good, better than good. His beard had thickened over the winter and his hair was longer than the short style he normally wore it in. He looked broader too, probably a product of working toward his knighthood.

Yusuf suddenly felt rather inadequate. Nicolò had expressed a love of his beard and hair on more than one occasion and now he had gone and cut it all off. More worryingly, he knew he’d lost weight since Nicolò had stopped writing to him. He couldn’t deny that Nicolò looking as happy and light as he did hurt a little.

Nicolò finished his conversation and began making his way back toward the center of the city and away from where Yusuf still stood frozen.

Nicolò turned a corner and left Yusuf’s line of sight, which finally broke him out of his paralysis. He took off running toward the corner he’d seen Nicolò disappear around.

Nicolò was tall, they both were, so when he turned onto the new street he spotted his love immediately. The street was small and crowded compared to the open waterfront. Yusuf couldn’t run anymore, but he weaved his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, closing the distance between them.

“Nicolò!”

“What-” Nicolò started to say before he turned and his eyes landed on Yusuf. He looked shocked and frozen in place for a moment. Yusuf could practically see him trying to figure out how this was happening. He couldn’t help the small smile he knew crept over his face.

Without a word, Nicolò grabbed his hand and began walking with purpose, dragging Yusuf behind him. He turned into an alleyway and pressed him up against the wall. It took Yusuf a moment to realize that the movement was not meant to be a prelude to a kiss. Instead Nicolò looked shocked and much to Yusuf’s dismay, angry.

“What are you-” Nicolò said. He shook his head and looked up at the sky for a moment before looking back at Yusuf, “why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Yusuf said. He swallowed, trying to calm his rising panic at this cold greeting. “I was worried when you didn’t write back.”

Nicolò looked down to where his hands were clutching the front of Yusuf’s doublet, he loosened his grip and pressed his palms into Yusuf’s chest. Yusuf couldn’t help the sigh he let out at the touch, and for a moment he hoped that Nicolò’s initial shock had eased. But the moment passed and Nicolò sprang back from him like he had touched fire.

“I wrote back,” Nicolò said harshly. “I told you to give me time.”

Yusuf watched as Nicolò turned to leave and he reached out to grab him for the first time since he arrived. His hand curled around Nicolò’s wrist, who in turn stared down at it like it was some vile thing.

“I need to- I can’t be here,” Nicolò stuttered out.

“Nicolò, wait.”

His love looked back at him, his eyes wide and pleading, “please let me go.”

Yusuf released him without question and stood there in shock as Nicolò retreated back onto the busy street.

He refused to break down in the middle of the city, but he knew it would come sooner or later. He didn’t understand what was happening and it terrified him.

\---

Yusuf was able to track down where Sébastien was staying later that day. The French prince didn’t look all that surprised to see him. He was even prepared -too prepared, Yusuf thought- to pass him off as a member of his personal staff while they were in public. He had initially planned to have Yusuf pass as a guard but he knew he looked less than healthy at that moment and didn’t question it when Sébastien pivoted to having him pose as a valet.

As it turned out, Nicolò was to be knighted three days later. Yusuf had gone through three lengthy separations from Nicolò before then, months long each time, but those three days felt like an eternity.

For someone who was supposed to be Sébastien’s valet, his friend made him do nothing. He supposed it was good to have a cover story worked out before they needed one, even if they weren’t actually using it.

Yusuf thought of Nicolò’s last words to him nonstop.

_ Please let me go. _

In the moment it had seemed clear that he just meant for Yusuf to release him from his grasp. That night, however, it dawned on him that the sentence could have had another meaning.  _ Let me go _ \- move on and let Nicolò go on without him.

Yusuf made himself sick, worrying and pacing his room that night. Sébastien sat up with him for most of the second night. The third night Yusuf insisted Sébastien sleep, at least one of them should look well rested at the ceremony the following day.

Most accolades were small, if there was even an event at all. Nicolò’s was to take place on a veranda at the front of his family estate. Yusuf knew where Nicolò lived, but they had never dared risk him getting this close to the house.

Nicolò’s family were technically noble, but really only in name. Their family hadn’t held large pieces of land for some generations but had made a name for themselves by becoming skilled fighters. Both his family and the city took pride in Nicolò’s being knighted and it showed in the turnout to the event.

Sébastien stood near the back of the crowd and Yusuf was sure it was solely for his benefit.

The ceremony itself was short. Nicolò stood still as a statue as his father spoke about his achievements and skill. He hated being the center of attention. Yusuf would have smiled -almost forgot himself and did- if not for the ominous strain between them.

Nicolò stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused into the middle distance until his father finished speaking. He glanced quickly at Yusuf and locked eyes with him before turning to kneel.

The look on Nicolò’s face had been something that Yusuf couldn’t quite comprehend. His eyes were desperate and it made Yusuf’s heart ache. He said a silent prayer to himself that the look had been one of longing and not sadness, or worse, resignation.

Nicolò’s father unsheathed his sword and looked down at his son. He laid the flat of the sword on one of Nicolò’s shoulders, then the other, all the while speaking in a reverent tone. Yusuf heard none of it though, his mind was filled with a buzzing because even as Nicolò was becoming a knight -the one thing he had worked for his entire life- he kept glancing at Yusuf.

Nicolò’s father stopped talking and he must have said something that warranted a response, because when Nicolò didn’t move he followed his gaze to Yusuf and narrowed his eyes briefly.

He repeated his pronouncement of his son, “now rise, Sir Nicolò di Genova,” which Nicolò did, breaking his eye contact with Yusuf.

The ceremony ended and Nicolò was swarmed by a group of young men and women that Yusuf assumed were his friends.

Yusuf was sure Nicolò’s father recognized him, but he never approached him. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, but the elder knight’s gaze fell on Yusuf more than once throughout the evening with cold anger behind eyes.

Yusuf stuck close to Sébastien. There were surely more people than just Nicolò and his father that would recognize him if he drew attention to himself, and every time someone passed close to him he half expected to be pulled away by one of his father’s men.

Nicolò was obviously avoiding the pair of princes, taking care to be on almost the exact opposite side of the courtyard the entire night.

“I should let you go talk to him,” Yusuf said when it became clear that Nicolò would do everything in his power to stay clear of Yusuf.

“I won’t abandon you,” Sébastien said firmly.

“He is your friend as well as mine.”

“I would not call Nicolò your  _ friend, _ Yusuf.”

Yusuf knew what Sébastien meant, of course he did, but the words still stoked the embers of doubt in his mind. He began to panic that things may never be mended between them. Would he even be able to call Nicolò his friend after that day? In his spiral he tried to grasp any shred of hope he could think of. Perhaps if he was really being set aside by Nicolò he could at least mend whatever rift had formed between them and they could still remain friends.

Just the thought of  _ only  _ being friends with Nicolò caused Yusuf’s chest to tighten- he pushed down the thought of losing him altogether lest it cause him to well and truly lose himself in the middle of this celebration. He had to speak with Nicolò. He had to. If only to grasp at whatever fragment of their relationship he could salvage.

His chance came near the end of the night.

Yusuf and Sébastien had been taking turns watching Nicolò speak with the seemingly endless parade of well-wishers. 

“He’s leaving,” Sébastien gasped out suddenly.

“What?” Yusuf turned around to look at where Nicolò had been standing for the past half hour to find him missing. “Where is he?”

“There,” Sébastien pointed to an archway that exited further into Nicolò’s home, “he left my sight mere moments ago.”

Yusuf blinked for a moment, unsure what Sébastien meant for him to do. Until he felt a firm push on his shoulder, “What are you doing, Yusuf? Run!”

And Yusuf did.

For the second time in less than a week Yusuf found himself weaving through a crowd, desperately trying to catch up to his love. He prayed that he was not too late, he prayed that he could beg Nicolò not to end this, but mostly he prayed that he would at least get the chance to speak with him and that Nicolò was not already too far away for Yusuf to find him.

He made it to the arch and found himself looking into a courtyard of sand-colored stone. He had hoped to find something quite a bit larger, but Yusuf could see many doors leading off the courtyard and his chest seized with panic again at the thought that Nicolò must already be gone, disappeared into the recesses of his home.

“Yusuf.”

He startled and turned to the side to find Nicolò standing in the shadows, just out of sight of the party.

“Nicolò-” Yusuf’s voice trailed off. It had been such a short time since they had last been together -barely more than half a year or only three days depending on how you looked at it- and still Yusuf was breathless at the beauty of him. In that moment he knew he had no hope of being able to beg to keep  _ just  _ their friendship. Faced with the beauty of his beloved he knew he would fall on his knees and beg Nicolò not to set him aside, how could he do anything less? Before he could form the words in his mind though, Nicolò spoke again.

“Walk with me?” He asked in a low voice.

Yusuf nodded and Nicolò turned, not waiting to see if Yusuf was following him. Surely he must know that Yusuf would follow him anywhere.

Nicolò led him through one of the archways, through an interior room and back outside into a garden behind the house.

Nicolò walked a few paces out from the house until they were no longer standing in the glow coming from the celebration at the house. He stopped and Yusuf stopped too. Time seemed to crawl; Yusuf was sure it was only a minute or so before Nicolò spoke, but it stretched out into a lifetime. 

“Why are you here?” Nicolò asked, finally turning to face Yusuf. His tone was maddeningly even and his face unreadable as ever.

“I missed you,” Yusuf said slowly, “and I wanted to see you. To be here for an important day in your life.”

Nicolò turned his back on Yusuf again and looked out over the dark night that covered the hills behind his house. Normally Yusuf would have wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed his neck. Instead he stood still, a few feet behind him, trying his hardest not to give into the panic that was boiling in his gut.

“Why are you making this so hard?” Nicolò asked.

“What?” Yusuf said immediately. He didn’t know that he expected Nicolò to say, but it wasn’t that.

“Why would you come when you know this is over,” Nicolò said, voice never trembling once. “It’s only making this harder. How am I supposed to move on when you won’t give me the space to do so?”

“Move on? Nicolò, why would you- are you- do you not-” Yusuf balled his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, but he couldn’t stop his voice from trembling as he asked, “do you not love me anymore?”

“How could you think that?” Nicolò said, whipping around to face Yusuf.

“Then why-- why-” Yusuf choked out, and he blinked rapidly trying to keep tears from falling from his eyes. He wanted to be angry. He felt angry -and scared, and betrayed- but he wanted to  _ be  _ angry. Instead, tears fell, his eyes betraying him.

“Why? Yusuf, you told me that you were engaged. Is that no longer true?”

“No, it is still true-” Yusuf barely got the answer out before Nicolò was talking again.

“Then why would you come here? I do not have the strength to leave you when you are here- I fear I do not have the strength to do it even when you are far away. I have thought of writing to you so many times these last few months.” Nicolò still looked almost unaffected by what he was saying.

Yusuf stood, still frozen with his fists balled at his sides. He frantically searched for words -any words- but none came to him. Nicolò kept speaking.

“I wish I could deny my feelings for you, but I can’t. I long for you, for your touch. I go years imagining your face, not believing you could possibly live up to the picture I have of you in mind, and then you’re standing in front of me so much more- so much better than I remembered but I-” Nicolò paused and took a deep breath, before continuing in a low voice, “I won’t be your paramour.”

“Is that what you think I want?” Yusuf asked, unbelieving that Nicolò could have such little faith in his feelings. “Is that what you think you would be to me?”

“What else could I be? I always knew this would end. I’m sorry that you didn’t, but I won’t be made the villain simply because I recognize the reality of our situation.”

There it was, the conversation they had danced around for years. Nicolò had always seemed like he thought Yusuf would leave him eventually, or that they would be forced apart. And in a way, Yusuf supposed that they had been.

Yusuf never entertained the idea of them not being together, not really. When the thought of permanent separation entered Yusuf’s mind, he would simply get to work planning and dreaming up ways he could force a match between the two of them or else flee his life in favor of running away with Nicolò.

Clearly Nicolò had never allowed himself the luxury of imagining them together forever. Yusuf took a deep breath.

“It is still true that  _ for now _ I have a fiancée, but she is as opposed to the union as I am. I am confident that we can stall the wedding for a long time yet. You are second to no one.”

“And when the time  _ does  _ come for you to wed?” Nicolò asked, his voice finally breaking with the faintest of quivers.

“I’ll run away again if I have to. I’ve proven I can, now.” Yusuf took a step toward him.

Nicolò shook his head and placed a hand in the center of Yusuf’s chest and gripped the front of his shirt. He seemed to be caught between keeping him at bay and pulling him in. He spoke again, staring down at his hand.

“I can’t- I can’t be the reason you lose everything.”

“Losing you would be losing everything.”

Nicolò snapped his eyes up to Yusuf’s, wide with shock. How had he gone so wrong with letting Nicolò know the depth of his devotion?

Yusuf didn't have much time to think on that though, because Nicolò finally pulled him in and their lips met.

Kissing Nicolò always felt wonderful, but this one was different. The fear and hurt that Yusuf had building up inside him for months, and even worse since Nicolò had left him in the alley came spilling out of him. He tasted the salt of his tears before he realized he was crying.

“Don’t leave me,” Yusuf finally choked out when Nicolò paused to lean his forehead into Yusuf’s.

“I thought it was you who was leaving me,  _ amore mio _ ,” Nicolò answered.

“Did you really think I wanted you to move on?”

“Your letter felt like a goodbye,” Nicolò said. He looked down between them before continuing, “and then you showed up here- and I-”

“Nicolò, I love you, I’ll never-”

“I know that, and I never doubted that you believed that. I just- I always knew- thought- I always  _ thought _ that the day would come when I couldn’t have you anymore.”

“No,” Yusuf put as much certainty as he could into the one word. Nicolò didn’t react, he simply waited for Yusuf to continue. “That day will never come. Please believe me, Nicolò, I know you think you aren’t worthy of me or that we will never be allowed to be together but we will. I know I am prone to exaggeration and flowery words, but these never are. I will never love anyone but you.”

“Lie with me,” Nicolò said quickly, “I’m ready. I want you.”

In the dim light from the house Yusuf could see a faint pink rise in Nicolò’s cheeks. He felt faint himself, as the blood rushed away from his head.

“Of course- what do you mean, you’re ready?” Yusuf asked. “I do believe we have coupled before. Either that, or I have a very active imagination.”

Nicolò pulled back and glanced up at him, “I want to feel you Yusuf,” he paused, worrying his lower lip, “in me.”

Yusuf’s mouth went dry. Mere minutes ago he had worried that he would be saying goodbye to the love of his life, possibly forever, and now the love of his life was begging to be fucked by him.

Yusuf nodded, but he still felt like everything was out of sorts. Yusuf had to be sure Nicolò wasn't doing this just because he felt guilty, and he definitely felt like they needed to get back on the same page.

“I have two requests,” Yusuf said. He snuck a hand around Nicolò’s back and pulled him back against him. “First, that we go to the cottage. I spent one very depressing night there alone and I’d like to erase that from my memory.”

Nicolò nodded to himself. “And the second?”

“Before anything happens we need to talk. I feel like I have neglected something or not made myself clear enough and I just want to make sure we don’t have any more misunderstandings.”

“Well, it’s a long hike,” Nicolò said, taking a step back from Yusuf, “tell me on the way.”

“Your father-” Yusuf started.

“Will know exactly who I am with, if not where I have gone. He may be angry, but he won’t worry.”

Nicolò held out his hand for Yusuf, who took it gladly and followed him into the night.

\---

Nicolò was standing with his back to the door when Yusuf opened it.

“That took less time than I expected,” Nicolò observed.

“Yes, well,” Yusuf said with a shrug, “you should have seen me four nights ago.”

“Hard lock to pick?”

“No. I simply fell as I was climbing through the window.”

Nicolò shook his head and chuckled. Yusuf smiled at him before dragging him inside by the front of his shirt.

The walk up to the cottage had taken nearly two hours, and both men were sweaty and a bit out of breath. The conversation had started awkwardly, neither of them sure how to broach the topic of their near miss.

Eventually though Nicolò had relented and confessed his fears about the inferiority of his birth compared to Yusuf’s title. Yusuf had started to dismiss them when Nicolò cut him off.

_ “Please don’t tell me it isn’t an issue, Yusuf, if it wasn’t an issue we would already be wed.” _

Yusuf had no argument for him, so he let Nicolò continue to unburden himself.

It was heartbreaking to hear his love speak so ill of himself and his upbringing, but he could tell Nicolò needed it.

By the time they reached the cottage Yusuf was confident that he had never heard Nicolò speak so many words in a single conversation before.

Yusuf pressed Nicolò against the back of the door of the cottage as soon as it was closed. He circled his arms around the small of his back, forcing Nicolò’s hips to tilt forward into his own.

Yusuf smiled as he leaned in to kiss his love. Nicolò’s hands ran over the short hair on the back of his head and he rocked his hips against Yusuf's.

“I love you,” Yusuf said against Nicolò’s lips. He pulled back and looked into Nicolò’s eyes, “you, only you. For the rest of my life. Forever. I know I haven’t done a great job of telling you.”

“Yusuf, you don’t need to make up for my own insecurities.”

“Yes, I do.” Yusuf brought a hand up to brush the pieces of hair falling into Nicolò’s eyes to the side. “Who am I if I am not the one to soothe your worries?”

Nicolò nodded slowly, staring back at Yusuf, unblinking.

“I have not told you plainly enough. Poetry is lovely -at least I hope you enjoy my words of devotion- but what is poetry if you do not know the sincerity of the sentiment behind it?” Yusuf took a deep breath and placed his hand firmly on Nicolò’s cheek, “I love every part of you, including your rank and title, no matter how different from my own. You are who I love, Nicolò di Genova. I want all of you and I want to give you all of me. There will never be anyone else. They may lead me to the wedding altar in chains if they wish, but I will never touch another, I will never lie with another, I will never love another.”

Nicolò stared back at him for a long time. Yusuf could feel his quick breaths and racing heart, but still he didn’t speak.

“Do you believe me?” Yusuf finally asked.

“Yes,” Nicolò said without hesitation. He bit his bottom lip for a moment before continuing. “Belief in you was never the issue. I believe in you with everything that I have. I suppose it is the world and the rules we are bound by that I did not have faith in- or perhaps too much faith in. Even now they seem insurmountable.”

“I am bound to the rules of my father, it is true, but someday-” Yusuf stopped short of finishing that sentence, perhaps it was not the right time to bring up that dark contingency plan. “I am still a prince, I am not without power of my own and I am yours, so all of that power is yours as well. I am your prince.”

Nicolò’s eyes widened. “M-my prince?”

“Utterly and completely yours, my knight.”

Nicolò laughed, obviously caught off guard. “That is no longer a lie,” he said with a small tilt of his head.

Yusuf could feel the mood lifting, the air was feeling lighter around them, and so he could not help but joke, “do not speak of lying when I do not have you under me.”

“Under you?” Nicolò asked, his head still tilted to the other side, but now a small smile crept across his face. “How can I be under you when you have spent the last several hours trying to convince me that we are equals?”

Then it was Yusuf’s turn to let out a surprised laugh. “So clever, my knight.”

Nicolò shrugged nonchalantly. “I should build a fire.”

Nicolò moved to break out of Yusuf’s arms but he only tightened them more and shook his head.

“I don’t need a fire,” Yusuf said, not wanting Nicolò to leave his embrace. He leaned his forehead against Nicolò’s and closed his eyes, “warm me with you.”

Nicolò swallowed audibly and moved toward the bed, pulling Yusuf with him.

“You are not the only one who has been here since our last meeting,” Nicolò said when they reached the bed. He pulled open the bedside table and produced a small jar.

“Olive oil,” he said, setting it on the table, “I did say I would be more prepared next time.”

Yusuf smiled and tried not to let his mind get too ahead of itself.

He traced his fingers along the golden thread that adorned Nicolò’s chest in intricate filigree.

“I do believe this is the nicest thing I’ve ever seen you wear,” Yusuf said absentmindedly.

“It was made special for today.” Nicolò’s eyes darkened slightly and he tilted his head to the side. He guided Yusuf’s hand to the topmost tie of his doublet. “Tear it off me.”

Yusuf blinked back at him, completely taken aback. Nicolò pushed his finger between Yusuf's and started lightly picking at the knot.

“You can have something new made for me and I will love it infinitely more than this,” he said slowly, “now tear it off me.”

They both moved at once. Yusuf immediately tugged at the ties that held the garment closed, while Nicolò did the same to his. Their lips crashed together, hungry and open and wet. There wasn’t much finesse but desire drove Yusuf on without care. Concentrating on anything other than disrobing Nicolò as quickly as possible and pressing his tongue harshly against Nicolò’s seemed utterly inconsequential. Why would he think of anything else?

In the end he did not tear Nicolò’s ties but he did hear something rip on his own garment.

“Sorry,” Nicolò gasped out, without slowing down.

“It’s Sébastien’s, I don’t care.”

Nicolò laughed and continued to help Yusuf disrobe while attempting to kick off his own pants. A moment later they were both blessedly naked and standing nose to nose.

“Are you sure?” Yusuf asked, forcing himself not to reach out and gather Nicolò in his arms.

“Yes,” Nicolò said. He ducked his head when he added, “I have been preparing myself for some time, even for the last few months when I was not writing, I was still working on making myself ready.”

Nicolò glanced up at Yusuf, a flush coming over his face. Yusuf was at a loss for words, the thought of Nicolò wanting him to the point of planning and preparing was almost too much for him to handle.

“Like I said,” Yusuf whispered, his voice already thick with want, “you are a clever knight.”

Nicolò guided Yusuf’s hands to his hips before throwing his arms around Yusuf’s shoulders.

“ _ Your  _ knight,” he corrected playfully.

“My knight.”

Nicolò shivered and for a moment Yusuf thought it was just from his words, but then he too started to feel his skin turning to gooseflesh, and noticed that Nicolò’s was too.

“You’re cold,” he said simply, guiding Nicolò back toward the bed.

“As are you,” Nicolò replied while reaching blindly behind him to pull back the covers.

They got into the bed quickly, the cold blankets felt like ice on Yusuf’s skin but he did not have to wait for them too warm as Nicolò maneuvered himself to straddle him. He draped himself over Yusuf from hip to shoulders, and buried his face in the space between his neck and shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Yusuf laughed lightly as Nicolò wiggled slightly against him, nuzzling in with this whole body.

“Warming you with me,” Nicolò said quietly, his face still buried in the crook of Yusuf’s neck.

Yusuf blinked up at the ceiling for a moment, completely overwhelmed. Anticipation and love and fear and lust all rolled up into one tight knot in the pit of his stomach and he couldn’t seem to unravel them.

“You’re nervous,” Nicolò said, finally pushing himself off Yusuf just enough to fix his gaze on Yusuf. “Do you want to stop?”

Yusuf shook his head and gripped Nicolò’s hips, his words trapped in the knot in his gut. Yusuf felt both their cocks pulse where they where trapped between their stomachs and groaned quietly. Nicolò’s eyes narrowed and he pulled one of Yusuf’s hands away from where it was still clutching his hip.

“Then let me guide you,” he said as he raised Yusuf’s hand to his lips and sucked a single finger into his mouth.

Yusuf groaned again as he felt Nicolò’s tongue swirl around the digit. He felt like he no longer had control of his hands, like he was somehow outside his body as Nicolò pulled the finger from his mouth with an obscenely wet sound.

He guided Yusuf’s hand behind him and leaned forward so their noses were nearly touching. Under Nicolò’s steady guiding hand he felt his finger brush over Nicolò’s entrance and they sighed in unison.

Yusuf hesitated as Nicolò removed his hand and propped himself up on his elbows, staring down at him with a fond smile.

“Go on,” he encouraged.

Yusuf tentatively circled his finger around the tight hole, spreading his saliva as he did. Nicolò closed his eyes and tiled his head up. Yusuf leaned up and pressed a brief kiss to his exposed neck, trying not to overthink what his finger was doing.

When he finally got the courage to press his finger past the entrance Nicolò made a low noise that almost sounded pained.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf demanded, trying not to panic.

Nicolò nodded and kissed Yusuf’s brow before reaching over to grab the jar of oil. It took a moment but when Yusuf returned his now oiled finger to try again he was able to slip in hardly any hesitation. Nicolò made the same noise, but he also pushed back against Yusuf’s hand, pulling him in deeper, so he tried not to worry.

The feeling of his finger moving slowly in and out of Nicolò was like nothing he had ever felt. To feel his body slowly relax, and the tightness ease as it invited Yusuf in, trusting his intrusion. All the while Nicolò gasped and moved with him, urging him on, whispering words of encouragement into his ear.  _ So good to me  _ and  _ perfect  _ and  _ I love you _ .

He moved slowly, asking Nicolò constantly if he was alright and if it felt good as he slowly worked from one finger up to three. Nicolò for his part appeared to be completely lost in the sensation of Yusuf working him open, saying whatever words came to his mind.

Yusuf almost panicked when Nicolò finally gasped out, “I’m ready,” but he nodded and removed his fingers as Nicolò grabbed the jar of oil once more and helped him to cover his now achingly hard cock.

Nicolò sank down onto him and Yusuf completely lost track of himself. He was only the feeling of Nicolò’s moving around him, and Nicolò was only the sounds that were being forced from his mouth with every rock of his hips.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, and knew he should at least attempt to do something- anything but just lie there completely overwhelmed, so he forced himself back to the present. He planted his feet on the bed and began to thrust up in time with Nicolò moving above him. He licked his hand and wrapped it around Nicolò cock, slowly coaxing more shuddered moans out of his beloved.

He spiraled toward his pleasure spilling out of him, all the while hoping he was less clumsy than he felt in his attempts to bring Nicolò to the edge.

Nicolò had spoken almost constantly, giving ample indication of what felt good, which appeared to be everything Yusuf did, though he felt the same about every move of Nicolò’s hips.

“You overwhelm me,” he finally felt present enough to say, looking up into Nicolò’s eyes, which widened and suddenly he was spilling onto Yusuf’s chest and clenching down around Yusuf’s hard length. Not a moment passed before he followed him over the edge, the sight of his love coming apart above him alone would have been enough, but the feeling of Nicolò bearing down onto him milked the most intense pleasure out of him that Yusuf had ever felt. He knew he cried out loudly as he came, and trembled for a long time after he was done. Nicolò trembled too, collapsed on top of him.

After some time had passed Nicolò had the presence of mind to grab a piece of discarded clothing off the ground and clean Yusuf’s chest. They ended up facing each other, legs and arms tangled together between them.

“Now I know how to get you to stop talking,” Nicolò smirked at him.

“And now I know how to hear your lovely voice whenever I want to,” Yusuf said.

“You say such lovely things, even as I make fun of you,” Nicolò ducked his head in embarrassment.

“You are quite loud, I did not expect that.”

“I could not help myself.” Nicolò blushed.

“I loved it,” Yusuf said. He brought a hand up to Nicolò’s chin and tilted it back so he could kiss him. “I look forward to drawing those sounds from you again.”

Nicolò pulled back from the kiss when he failed to stifle a yawn. “I apologize.”

“No, no, no, do not worry,” Yusuf said, “you have had a busy day- and an emotionally taxing one no thanks to me.”

Nicolò opened his mouth like he was going to speak but closed it a moment later without saying anything.

“We can speak in the morning, for now let us sleep?” Yusuf said, hoping that Nicolò did not feel dismissed, but he too was feeling the pull of sleep.

Nicolò nodded, rolled over and pressed himself back against Yusuf, who fell asleep with his nose pressed to the nape of his lover's neck, drinking in the scent of him.

\---

Yusuf heard Nicolò groan and he jolted awake. His mind seemingly had not stopped being hyper aware of his love’s every movement and sound.

Yusuf was pressed against Nicolò from behind, an arm slung over his waist. Nicolò leaned back into Yusuf with a deep sigh.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asked quickly. He tightened his hold around Nicolò’s waist, and a moment later felt a hand grab his own.

“More than alright,” came the sleepy reply.

“I didn’t hurt you?”

Nicolò gave Yusuf a skeptical look over his shoulder.

“Alright, alright, so not bad.” Yusuf smiled as he pressed a kiss into Nicolò’s shoulder. “Good?”

“Extremely.”

They lay tangled together for a long time. Yusuf trailed light kisses across Nicolò’s shoulders, while his love tangled their hands together, kissing each knuckle in turn before holding it to his chest.

Things felt better. Yusuf couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had shifted and it wasn’t just the lines they had crossed the previous night. Yusuf at least didn’t feel quite as helpless at the thought of their inevitable separation. He’d found his way to Genova on his own with no trouble, surely he could do so in the future.

Nicolò turned in Yusuf’s arms to face him.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

Yusuf kissed his nose before answering, “with you in my arms, how could I not?”

Nicolò chuckled and rolled his eyes, but the mirth faded from his eyes after a moment and he said, deep and sincere, “I love you.”

Yusuf gathered Nicolò close to him, shivering at the hands he felt on his back.

“I love you too,” Yusuf said, “promise me you’ll talk to me next time you think I’m having doubts. I know it’s hard for you, talking or writing about your thoughts, but I need to know that you won’t shut me out again- at least not when it’s something we can fix.”

“I will,” Nicolò said. He looked away from Yusuf before adding in a small voice, “I’m so sorry I did this to us.” 

“No, please. You don’t need to-” Yusuf shook his head and paused. The last thing he wanted was for Nicolò to feel guilty. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know things are uneven between us, I shouldn’t have ignored that or brushed your worries aside. What happened when I was last here is proof enough that they were not unfounded. I’ll do better, I promise.”

Nicolò smiled, small but brilliant before he answered, “we’ll both do better.”


	14. 1440-1444

April 2nd 1440

Yusuf, my prince,

It is scarcely three days since you left my side, I do not believe you can have even made it home to Tunis already. Still, I felt the need to tell you how different this separation already feels compared to previous ones.

I feel lighter, somehow. I can’t help but replay everything you said and the way you moved in me, body and soul. I thought I loved you before, but those feelings cannot be compared to how I feel now.

I wonder if my love for you will increase with every meeting? I hope so, even if it threatens to consume me as it is. I would gladly be buried in my love for you, and yours for me.

I hope you had a safe and uneventful voyage, and that your father is not overly displeased with you, though that last one may be asking too much. I wish I could offer my apologies and deepest regrets to your father for having tempted you to my side. Alas, I have been taught not to lie. I simply hate to think of you being reprimanded on my account.

Thinking of you always.

Your knight,

Sir Nicolò

**\---**

_ April 10th 1440 _

_ Nicolò, the very air in my lungs, _

_ I did not hope to hear from you so soon, but it is a welcome and lovely surprise. _

_ I have called you a knight and sir on more than one occasion, long before you actually held the title. Seeing you use them for yourself fills me up with warmth. I did not think to say these words while we were together but I am extremely proud of you. It is clear your friends and family are as well- I am sorry I took you from them on such an important day. _

_ You were right in guessing that my father was not happy with me upon my return. It has been two days and he has not spoken a word to me, only shouted them. _

_ I have come to the conclusion that he is mostly talk, though. He doesn’t speak of my marrying Lady Nile anymore, and we are both under the impression that if we do not bring it up, it will go on being ignored by both our fathers. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**\---**

May 13th 1440

My prince,

I would have hated the attention of the ceremony and party that followed regardless of the circumstances surrounding it, you know this. I have always done better with private interactions as opposed to group ones.

Being able to make right our misunderstandings and be with you is something I could never regret. Even if all had been right between us I would have found some way to sneak away with you- probably much earlier in the evening. If anything, you didn’t steal me away from my friends and family quickly enough.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ June 19th 1440 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ Done better with private interactions? Well, I daresay you are exceedingly good at them. Though I hope I am the only lucky man to have been privy to your private interactions. _

_ My father wishes me to escort Nile to see her family in Rome. I expect he wants to force us to spend time together. Little does he know that I spend plenty of time with her and count her as a dear friend. That does not help my father’s agenda, though. _

_ With Nile’s reassurance that she will not feel abandoned I intend to continue on to Genova without her to see you. We leave in four days time so I will be gone before you can send a reply but I hope you find this plan to your liking. If all goes according to plan, I believe I will be able to stay in Genova for close to two months! _

_ On another note, your most recent letter is the second time you have addressed me as “my prince.” Does that please you, to think of me as yours? I am yours, wholly and completely yours. _

_ I will see you soon. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

August 27th 1440

Yusuf,

You left from Genova only two days ago and I expect you will not arrive home for quite some time.

I wish I could only write of my affections for you, and the way my heart aches at you leaving after such a long stay (I could almost imagine living close to you- or with you forever).

Instead my heart is heavy with grief for our friend. To lose one’s spouse in childbirth- I can not begin to imagine. I only met Nicolette at Sébastien’s wedding, but he spoke quite fondly of her in his letters, she seemed wonderful- and a good match for our dear friend. I know he loved her dearly.

Poor Sébastien. To be left behind with his three young sons- who now do not have their mother. I mourn for our friend and what he has lost. I wish there was something I could do for him, alas I know there is little that can hurry the dull ache of losing a loved one.

I hope your journey home was smooth.

I love you, my prince, more than I can say.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ September 6th 1440 _

_ My dearest, my Nicolò, _

_ I was pleased to see a letter from you waiting for me when I arrived home. I read it before I read Sébastien’s and I cannot tell you the shock of being so thrilled to see a letter from you and then the devastation of reading what has befallen our friend. Poor Nicolette, I too did not know her overly well, but I’ve met her more than you have. _

_ She was too young. _

_ And Sébastien is too young to endure this loss. _

_ Since writing the above I have spoken with my father and requested his leave to visit Sébastien. He agreed, though not before making a snide remark about finally asking for permission to do something. Perhaps I was not as clever in my visit to you while Nile was in Rome as I thought. _

_ No matter, I shall go straight to Sébastien. I’m sure you are right and that there is little I can do to ease his mind. Still, he should not be alone right now. _

_ I feel a bit selfish, for even as I endeavor to be a good friend I plan a way to see you again. I will do what I can to detour to Genova on my way home. _

_ I have seen you three times in a single year. Perhaps I can make it four in the next year.  _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

December 15th 1440

My prince,

I miss you already, is that selfish?

Even though I saw you in the wake of your time with our dear widowed friend, or perhaps because of that, I can think only of you.

I wish you had had more time to stay in Genova, though I suppose after your two month stint earlier this year I grow too greedy. I want to seize every opportunity we have to be together.

I’m terrified of losing you. Not in the way I once was. No, now my imagined villain is not our parents or society’s expectations of us, but rather the cold invisible hand of death.

I’m sorry to be so melancholy. I miss you, and I grieve for our friend, that is all. I’m sure my mood will be improved in the new year.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ January 1st 1441 _

_ My love, _

_ I don’t think you could ever be selfish. If things were different we would have heard the news and processed it together. _

_ Death has been my fear for many years where you are concerned. You are a talented fighter, but you are just one man. I fear for the day you are called to war or battle. I pray it never comes. _

_ I hope you don’t have any plans to be out of the city. My birthday is in two weeks and I have decided to use it as an excuse to come see you. _

_ I will feel quite silly if I show up and you are not there. Perhaps in the future I will endeavor to make a habit of planning my visits to you more than a fortnight in advance. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

February 15th 1441

Yusuf, my prince,

I’ve become completely spoiled by your frequent visits. Mere days from departure and I already long for you. How did we survive the first three years of our relationship?

Maybe it is better that we have to spend some time apart though. Surely I would become a dull and feeble man if I had you in my bed every night. Missing you at least drives me to the training ground if only to forget my longing for you for an afternoon. Were I with you every day I would become as lazy as a pampered house cat.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ February 22nd 1441 _

_ My esteemed and enchanting knight, _

_ You must not remember our time spent in bed together very well. I shall remind you: you are insatiable and have stamina far greater than my own. If anything, spending every night with you would drive me into better shape rather than you out of it. _

_ I have also had many a fantasy about you taking me to the training ground to teach me to fight. Think of that what you will. _

_ Today is five years since we first met. _

_ May I confess something to you? I have had a small goal in mind for quite some time of ten years being the absolute longest I will let this drag on without marrying you. _

_ Nile and I continue to work on finding a way to break our betrothal without tarnishing her or her family's names. We think we have settled on finding her another suitor. Hopefully that would keep there from being bad blood between our families, and my father will allow me to choose my own spouse. He certainly seems to begrudgingly accept that you are a part of my life now. _

_ Five more years. If not sooner, I hope it can be sooner. _

_ I feel a little silly asking this but- would you be interested in that? Marrying me someday? I’m not proposing yet- I am still technically engaged after all, but… with a more concrete offer in the future… would you? _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

March 25th 1441

My prince,

Of course I want to marry you! If your letter said “come to Tunis today and marry me,” I would do it without question. Happily. Ecstatically.

I love you, Yusuf. As soon as we are able to wed, I will be there by your side for the rest of our lives.

Unfortunately, I have something slightly less romantic to report. My father says there are rumors of a “disagreement” in the east. He is confident we will be called to the eastern border within a month.

I hope he is wrong.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ April 3rd 1441 _

_ Nicolò, the brightest of stars in the sky, _

_ I have also been tasked with going on a trip this summer. My father’s health worsens with each passing year and he wants me to strengthen our relationships with the other Mediterranean kingdoms. I do not have the fondness for my father the way I once did, but I do worry about him. I do not feel ready to rule- and that is what he is preparing me for with this trip, whether he will put words to it or not. _

_ I had hoped to come see you during that trip but now that you may not be there… Give me three days from the posting of this letter and I will leave for Genova. _

_ I hope you have not already been called away. _

_ Remember earlier this year when I thought I would be able to plan subsequent visits to you? The universe seems determined to laugh at me. _

_ Three days from when you receive this letter, come find me on the docks. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

_ April 26th 1441 _

_ My knight, _

_ Nicolò, I am so glad I got to see you before your departure. _

_ I know you’ve already left, but this letter will be waiting for you when you return. Write to me as soon as you are home- for I am sure I will be home before you. _

_ I pray for your safety. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

February 4th 1442

Yusuf, my prince, king of my heart!

I am home! I have missed you so much- this tour lasted much longer than I think either of us thought it would. But I’m home now and I long for you, please say you can visit soon?

The tour itself was rather by the book, though both my father and I caught the way some of the generals spoke of what is happening further east. I cannot say that I necessarily agree with the reasons we may yet be called to war, as they all seem quite tangled and convoluted to me- but I have little say in the matter. My duty is to king and country.

It has been very nearly a year since you spoke of putting a time limit on us getting married. Do you think you are at all closer to finding a way out of your engagement? I do not want you to think me a coward, but I quite like the idea of another king being in charge of my every move than the one I currently serve, for he only seems blood thirsty and in want of more power.

I look forward to the day I may call you my king in all ways, not just of my heart.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ February 10th 1442 _

_ Nicolò! _

_ The weight that lifted from my shoulders upon receiving your letter is immeasurable, I feel so much lighter knowing you are home safe. If it was in my power to keep you from war I would. _

_ Unfortunately I have not made much progress on the issue of dissolving my engagement. I promise you I am trying- we both are. I do not wish to force Nile on just any person if I can help it. Simply transferring her from one loveless match to another is the last thing I want. _

_ I find myself unable to write of anything else: you asked me to say that I can visit soon, then I will. I have spoken with my father and arranged to leave before a week has passed. _

_ I’ll have you in my arms soon, my love. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

April 18th 1442

Yusuf,

Our fears draw closer. Word came down from Rome to ready our fighting men and prepare them to be called to fight. I have spent most of the last month since you departed training young men, little more than boys, to wield sword and spear.

They are not soldiers, yet I fear I shall be tasked with leading them into battle before the summer is out.

I feel like I just returned home only to be taken from it again so quickly. Taken from you.

I have seen small fights and skirmishes- I have even taken a life, but I know what I have seen so far in my life will not compare to what I would see if- when we are called to leave.

I’m scared, Yusuf. I do not want to go to war.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ April 29th 1442 _

_ Nicolò, my sweet love, my gentle knight, _

_ I wish I could protect you from this. Were it in my power, I would never see you go to a war you did not believe in. Selfishly I would keep you from all battles and wars and indeed any danger that I could- though I do not think that is what you want. Instead I would be determined that only the most noble and just of causes would take you from my side- ones you would go to glady, ones that would honor your good name and your good heart. _

_ I want more than anything to leave everything and rush to your side this very instant, but my father grows sicker still and it has been left to me more and more over the past few weeks to take up the duties he would normally fulfil. I fear I will not be able to drop everything to come to you any longer the way I have in the past. _

_ I will try and arrange for some time to get away and come to you in May or June. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

May 13th 1442

Yusuf,

I have received word that my men and I are to leave in two weeks time.

Please. I beg you to come to me. If this letter reaches you in a timely manner you should have just enough time to come to me.

You have told me on more than one occasion that I am not selfish. Well, right now I must be. Please, Yusuf. I do not think I can do this. I am terrified, I need you.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ May 18th 1442 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ I shall try not waste your time with pretty words or poetry, nor shall I leave any room for misinterpretation. If these are to be my last words to you for quite some time then I need to know that you understand their meaning fully. _

_ I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you! _

_ Please know that I love you, but I am sorry I cannot make it to you in time to see you off. _

_ I would be at your side in an instant if I could. Duty calls me in another direction, as it does you. _

_ I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am. I hope you will not hate me. I hate myself for having to put duty over you, but I hope you will not. _

_ Please be safe while you are gone. You carry my most precious possession with you. Return yourself safe to me, that is all I ask. _

_ I hope this letter reaches you in time. I selfishly hope that I will receive one from you in return before you leave- though I understand if you cannot- or wish not to reply. _

_ I feel like I have betrayed you by not coming to your side. I am so sorry, my love. _

_ I will be here waiting for you to return and thinking of you every day. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

May 27th 1442

My prince,

Yusuf, I could never hate you.

I was desperate and scared -I am still desperate and scared- but I could never blame you for things that are beyond your control. Nor could I hate you. Not ever.

I will of course be safe, or as safe as I can be.

Today I leave for, well, I can only guess for how long. My mother has agreed to safeguard any letters you wish to send to me in my absence. I do not think it wise to send proof that I would be a valuable hostage into a battlefield, nor do I trust your letters not to be lost before they reach me.

I will try to write to you, my mother has also agreed to send any letters I might send on to you. So you will hear from me, though I will not hear from you.

I love you. My heart shatters at having to leave you and not see you or hear from you for God knows how long. Small though they are, the pieces of my broken heart still beat only for you, my dearest friend, lover, and love of my life.

I too will be thinking of you every day.

Your knight, now and always,

Sir Nicolò di Genova

**\---**

_ December 2nd 1442 _

_ Nicolò, my knight, _

_ Nile tells me that I must write to you before I have drawn your visage on every spare piece of parchment in Tunisia. She exaggerates, though I am afraid not by much. _

_ I am sure that the lack of news of you can only be a good thing. I fear every day that I will receive a letter that tells me you are dead. I also fear every day that I will not receive a letter from you that tells me you are alive and well. _

_ My father is… well, he is not well. His mind seems to be slipping somewhat. His advisors assure me that I will be the king in all but name before the end of next year. I already feel like I run the country, as my father has not shown the ability to do much of anything important for months now. _

_ I suddenly feel very selfish. Why do I feel selfish? And sad? My father has done nothing but stand in the way of the one thing that would provide me with true happiness, and yet I fear to lose him. I do not forgive him, though I cannot pretend that his reasons for making a match with Lady Nile are unheard of. Both of my sisters married people they did not know before he made the match and they are perfectly happy. Indeed even he and my mother were a match made and not found naturally. He would have had no reason to believe me unable to love anyone but you. So how can I hate him for simply doing what he thought was right? _

_ I don’t know. And you cannot answer me. I do not even know why I am telling any of this to you. It is likely that by the time you read this many months, or years even, will have passed. Perhaps it helps me to put it to paper. Or perhaps it helps to imagine your reply to me. _

_ Would you tell me to mend my relationship with my father before it is too late? Or would you say that I should not grant him the satisfaction of an apology after all he has done to me- to us? No, no. You are too kind for that. You would tell me to mend things- I know you would. _

_ Oh, how I long for your quick and decisive mind. You may think I do not see it but I do, you are so smart- so much smarter than I am. I look forward to the day when I can have you and your mind at my side at all times. _

_ I hope to find time to visit Sébastien at some point in the new year. It has been far too long since I saw him, over two years now. Last I saw him he was still newly grieving the loss of his wife. _

_ Once again I feel silly informing you of news that will likely be very old upon your return home. _

_ I miss you, I miss writing to you. I hope you are well and pray for your safety always. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

February 22nd 1443

Yusuf,

I missed August 1st, which I wanted to be the date of my first letter- six years since our first kiss. But then things grew crazy- I am sorry I have not yet written. Things are still crazy, but I am determined not to miss another anniversary.

Instead I write to you seven years to the day since I first laid eyes on you. I have loved you since that first day, when a shy young man, a boy really, for I was not yet seventeen, turned his eyes on a prince and dared imagine he would ever look his way. I do not know what I did to gain your favor or your love, but I thank my lucky stars every day.

Do you think so long will have passed by the time I return home that your ten year time limit will be up? Will you still love me after such a long time of not seeing me?

What a ridiculous question, I know you would. I made a habit of doubting your love for me in the past- or at least doubting what you would do to keep that love safe. I don’t anymore.

I hope my last letter made it to you and you have not spent the past nine months thinking that I would be cross with you for performing your duty. Just as I am performing mine.

I love you. That seems an insufficient phrase. Love is too small a word to encompass all that you are to me. You are in my every thought, my every breath.

I lie awake at night exhausted but too afraid to sleep, for I dread what each morning brings. It is only when I conjure visions of your face, of your touch, that I feel at ease enough to sleep.

You are here with me, Yusuf, I feel your love all these hundreds of miles away, I hope you feel mine.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ October 22nd 1443 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ Today is your 24th birthday. I hope you are back home to read this before your 25th. _

~~_ I am _ ~~

~~_ I do not have _ ~~

_ I must admit that I am not doing well in your absence. My father has all but quitted the crown and I am constantly and completely overwhelmed. _

_ Eighteen months is far too long to go without seeing you. I wish I could see you. Even a single day would surely give me the will to continue on for months longer. _

_ I’m sorry I do not want you to return home to letters full of only my sad and lonely musings. I do long for you, but I am surviving. _

_ I have read the letter you sent many times (the only one you’ve sent since you left, I might add. I am only mentioning this because I know you will not see this until you are home and thus hopefully will not feel guilty- I know you are busy… that does not change the fact that I wish I had more news of you). _

_ I am glad that thoughts of me can comfort you even when I can not. I wish you had told me more of what is happening. I can only imagine what “the dread each morning brings” is. I would love to have more to go on as my imagination has painted a rather gruesome and desperate picture of what is happening at the front. _

_ It is easy to pour my dark and desperate thoughts into these letters knowing you will not receive them until you are safe and far from that place. I only wish you could do the same. _

_ Of course I can feel your love.  _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

_ If my ten year time limit passes and you are not yet home I will ride into battle myself and drag you home to marry me, no matter what your king has to say about it. _

**\---**

May 27th 1444

My prince,

Today is two years since I left for the front.

We do have a propensity to write letters on important dates. I wonder which of your letters will hold significant dates in the top left corner.

I am sorry for the length of time that has passed between letters. We have said that no amount of time between letters would lessen our love- however, I still feel awful for not being able to find the time to write you. I know that you worry.

I must admit I have little energy for anything outside of my duties. I do not wish to worry you more than I’m sure you already are… so I hope you will forgive me for not laying upon you the burdens of war. Please rest assured that, given the circumstances, I am in good spirits.

I know my excuses do not ease the worry you must have felt this past year. I wish you did not have to play the worried husband while not even holding the title yet.

I hope I do not see a third year pass since my tour began. My father does not think we will, and I trust his judgement, at least.

Do something for me, will you, Yusuf? Send me a drawing of yourself. I want to be able to look upon you the moment I am home, and I suspect I would have to wait weeks or months before you would be able to come to me, so at least give me this small gift.

I miss you, and I love you.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ August 1st 1444 _

_ Nicolò, my moon, _ _   
_ _   
_ __ It has been eight years to the day since you first kissed me, over two of which have passed since I last set eyes on you.

_ There is your significant date, my knight. _

_ I miss you. I wish I could poke fun at you and know you would read it in a matter of days. If I cannot see your smile, I would settle for knowing you were smiling on the other side of the sea. As it is, I hope you have found reasons to smile while you have been gone. _

_ It is a strange thing to endure- being apart from you for this long after how often we were able to spend together before you left. It is stranger still to have received letters from you knowing that you have not received mine. _

_ You say you are in good spirits, which I am thankful for. I cannot even pretend to know the toll that being away from your home and family for these past two years has taken on you. I hope that you truly are in good spirits and are not hiding the worst of your time from me to spare my feelings. I worry for you regardless. I hope you know that you can tell me anything that you need to. _

_ I have been hearing rumors that the war may soon come to an end. I do not want to give in to hope lest it ruin me if you are not to return home soon. Unfortunately, I have always been a hopeful person. _

_ Please write to me as soon as you are home. I pray that it is soon. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

_ I have included the drawing you requested. I must admit that I had not drawn a self portrait until I received your last letter. I would have perhaps written sooner if I had not needed to practice for months to be sure I captured myself truly. Nile says it is a true likeness.  _

_ I have news concerning her as well- good news, news I think you will like, but I do not risk writing it down lest it fall into the wrong hands while this letter waits for your return. _

**\---**

November 14th 1444

Yusuf, my prince, my life, my everything,

My love, I am back in Genova. As I put this pen to paper I have been home for only an afternoon- I have yet to even change from my travel clothes but I could not wait to read your letters and respond to them.

Though I will not say I enjoyed my time away from you and your letters, it really was not as difficult as I would have imagined. Time passed quickly and there was always something to do.

Now, though? With no duties to fulfill, no battles to fight, I am positively desperate for you. I hope your freedom to travel has not dwindled in the past two years. I would come to you, but I have a feeling I would not be welcomed into your father’s court.

Perhaps I am wrong, though? Say the word, Yusuf, and I will be on the next ship bound for Tunis.

Anxiously awaiting the day that I can be in your arms once more.

Your knight,

Nicolò


	15. Distraction and Discussion

He gave no real excuse, and had not been pressed for one. He knew it was irresponsible to leave so suddenly with his father’s health and mind not improving. His mother and the rest of his fathers advisors had assured him that they could handle the kingdom for a few weeks without him. He deserved a break. Nile wasn’t even there for Yusuf to feel guilty at leaving her behind.

The morning after he received Nicolò’s letter he was on a ship bound for Genova. The journey, which usually took five days, ended up taking seven due to the captain needing to stop off in Rome for a day. Yusuf had entertained the thought of demanding that they continue sailing, he hardly ever flexed his royal status. He knew they would obey him, they had to, but he also knew in his heart that these men were simply living their lives. Nicolò would still be there in the two extra days it took.

He tried not to think about the last time Nicolò had asked him to come visit on short notice, how he had missed his chance to say goodbye to his love before being unable to see him for nearly three years. It could not have been helped, and it was in the past now. He would have Nicolò in his arms soon enough and all would be right with the world once more.

Genova looked just as he remembered. He’d had the opportunity to visit the city while Nicolò was gone, but passed it by. He didn’t want to be in the city if his love wasn’t there.

Now, though? Walking along the docks of Genova with Andromache hot on his heels, he felt like he was coming home for the first time in years. He supposed in a way, he was.

Yusuf glanced at Andromache as he walked toward a street he knew Nicolò frequented- he had three years prior, at least. He opened his mouth but she cut him off before he could speak.

“You look very handsome, Yusuf,” she said with a slight smile and hint of knowing in her eyes, before returning her face to the stoic, unreadable one he was used to.

He ducked his head slightly, feeling his heart flutter as he nervously smoothed down the front of his doublet. He turned and focused on scanning the crowded streets before he could work himself into a nervous panic.

They made their way through various streets and markets as the morning turned into early afternoon, even stopping to purchase some freshly made paniccia for him and Andromache.

Yusuf found himself back on the docks almost wishing he had given Nicolò a warning of his arrival, his desire to surprise him was starting to feel like a nuisance rather than a romantic gesture.

The docks were busy now, with fishermen, sailors and traders bustling about like ants. He couldn’t miss the sight of Nicolò, though. They were both too tall to easily blend into a crowd, and even though it had been nearly three years, Yusuf would know those broad shoulders anywhere. 

Nicolò was walking along the shore, his back to Yusuf. His hair was longer than Yusuf had ever seen it, as was his beard, which Yusuf caught a glimpse of when he glanced at the water for a moment.

Yusuf couldn’t contain himself, and mere moments passed before he shouted, “Nicolò,” out over the crowd.

Nicolò immediately spun around.

For a brief moment Yusuf was reminded of calling out Nicolò’s name in the streets of Genova when he came for his knighting ceremony; the confusion, hurt and fear that had painted Nicolò’s face as he thought he was looking at a man who was bound to marry another and didn’t want him anymore. When Nicolò’s eyes landed on him this time, though, those painful memories were driven instantly from Yusuf’s mind.

Nicolò was standing still, looking at Yusuf in utter shock one moment and the next he was sprinting toward him along the crowded dock.

When Nicolò reached him, Yusuf threw his arms around him and buried his face in his shoulder. Nicolò pressed his palms into Yusuf’s back, pulled them close together and kissed the side of Yusuf’s head.

When they finally pulled apart, Nicolò’s eyes were slightly red, as Yusuf knew his were, both of them trying to hold their emotions at bay in the middle of the crowded waterfront. Yusuf moved his hands to cradle Nicolò’s face.

“Your hair is long,” Yusuf said.

“It’s hard to find time for personal grooming in the middle of a war,” Nicolò said with a small shrug.

“I like it, it suits you.” 

Nicolò smiled slightly, almost unnoticeably. Yusuf buried his fingers deeper into the hair on the back of Nicolò’s head and finally kissed his love.

The kiss was soft and chaste and over far too quickly. Nicolò pulled back and leaned his forehead against Yusuf’s for a moment before saying, “follow me,” in a low voice.

He grabbed Yusuf’s hand and began to pull him along the docks. He led Yusuf to a dark alleyway, ducked into it and found himself pushed against the wall of the alley.

Once again Yusuf was reminded of their darkest moments, but this time Nicolò didn’t stop with pushing Yusuf up against the wall. He didn’t hold Yusuf back with one hand, carefully keeping a forced distance between them. This time he crowded into Yusuf’s space, one hand on his hip and the other pressed to the wall next to Yusuf’s head.

Leaned against the wall the way Yusuf was, Nicolò stood slightly taller than him. It was something he had never thought to wonder about, but now that Nicolò was staring down at Yusuf with hunger in his eyes, he couldn’t help but get lost in the feeling of being completely surrounded by his knight.

“I missed you,” Yusuf finally said.

Nicolò’s only reaction was to slightly tighten his grip on Yusuf’s hip before leaning forward and pressing his lips to Yusuf’s.

Yusuf gasped, and Nicolò took the opportunity to deepen the kiss and run his tongue along Yusuf’s bottom lip before darting it into his mouth.

Nearly three years of built up nerves at what their reunion would be like melted away in an instant. Yusuf had secretly been worried that things would be different now, that they might have grown apart or learned to live without each other for long enough that they wouldn’t want to continue their difficult and at times heartbreaking romance.

Yusuf knew as the tentative air shattered between the two of them that his fears were completely unfounded.

Nicolò grabbed one of Yusuf’s hands and held it against the wall next to them as if Yusuf might try to run away. They both knew he wouldn’t, but there was something exciting about Nicolò’s strong arms holding him in place.

They kissed like they weren’t still mostly in public, and Yusuf gladly lost track of time.

\---

Yusuf rented a room at an inn on the waterfront. It was small, but it had a bed, a small fireplace and a window that faced the sea; they didn’t need more than that.

When Yusuf paid for the two rooms -one for him and Nicolò, one for Andromache- the innkeeper gave him a knowing look, glanced at Nicolò where he was studying a mounted boar’s head on the other side of the entry and smiled as she told Yusuf which rooms were theirs.

Nicolò entered the room first, and by the time Yusuf made sure the door was secure and set down his pack, he was looking out at the ocean. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, almost like he was hugging himself.

Yusuf walked up behind his love and slowly wrapped his arms around him as he pressed himself against Nicolò’s back. Nicolò leaned back into him with a sigh.

Yusuf paused. The sigh Nicolò gave was not one of affection or comfort, it sounded like one born of stress and anxiety. They had only just reunited after so long apart. Only moments ago the only thing on Yusuf’s mind had been getting his mouth on every inch of Nicolò’s body but after a sound like that all thoughts of coupling were driven from Yusuf’s mind.

Nicolò sighed again, but his tense arms slowly relaxed under Yusuf’s, and their hands found their way to being intertwined.

“What is on your mind?” Yusuf asked when a third shaky sigh broke the silence.

“Two and a half years is a long time,” Nicolò said.

Yusuf hoped Nicolò didn’t take note of the way his arms tensed. His mind immediately spiraled into thoughts of Nicolò having met someone else while he was away. Having grown bored or frustrated with waiting for Yusuf to marry him.

Yusuf stroked the side of Nicolò’s arms and kissed the back of his shoulder, trying to calm himself at the same time as he calmed his love.

“I just missed you,” Nicolò said. Yusuf said nothing but continued to run his hands up and down Nicolò’s arms. When minutes had passed Nicolò added in a soft voice, “I can’t stop thinking about my time away.”

Yusuf hummed against Nicolò’s shoulder and hugged him tightly. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. He was sure the implication was that Nicolò had seen and experienced many horrible things while he was away. Yusuf had never been in a battle but he’d read about them, both real accounts and imagined ones. He believed he had some idea of what the past two years had been like for Nicolò, though he knew his imagination probably fell short.

“What can I do?” Yusuf said. He hoped that the soft tone of his voice conveyed everything he meant with that question.  _ Tell me what you need. I will do anything to take this pain and worry from you. Anything. _

Nicolò turned in his arms and buried his face against Yusuf's chest. When he spoke he was quiet and desperate. He was begging.

“Make me forget, Yusuf. I don’t want to think about war and blood and screaming, not when I’m with you. Please, make me forget.”

Yusuf froze at the request. In that moment he was confident that nothing he did could ever take away the memories of what Nicolò had seen and done. How could he not try, though? His heart was breaking and he needed to mend it.

Yusuf said all he could think to say in that moment, “I’ll try.”

\---

Sleeping with Nicolò in a well-lit room, by a roaring fire, warm and safe, was incredible. They did not have to break into a cottage. Neither of them was dodging their father or impending duties. After so long apart and having to sneak around even longer before that, the freedom he felt in being able to simply rent a room and spend the night with the love of his life was utterly calming.

They had spent so much of the few days they had been able to spend together over the years worried and rushed. This time was different. Something changed while Nicolò was gone. There was a calm between them, despite the ghosts of Nicolò’s time away hanging over them. They had both grown up.

The morning after Yusuf arrived in Genova he woke up laying on his stomach with the weight of Nicolò pressed to his side, his arm draped across Yusuf’s back.

They were both still in their bedclothes- a rarity for them when they spent the night together, but they had talked well into the evening and Yusuf could tell Nicolò was in no state to do anything other than fall asleep. He didn’t mind. After so long apart Yusuf knew he would gladly never be with Nicolò in that way ever again if he could simply wake up with their bodies tangled together for the rest of his life. He didn’t need more.

As Yusuf stirred he felt Nicolò shift and the arm around his back tighten. He turned his head toward his love and found two still sleep-heavy, ocean-green eyes blinking back at him.

“Good morning,” Yusuf rasped out. He cleared his throat trying to clear the sleep from it as Nicolò brought a hand to stroke reverently at his temple. Yusuf pressed his cheek lightly into the contact.

“I was worried it was a dream,” Nicolò whispered. He took his hand back and rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling as he continued. “I was back in the mud watching my countrymen die.”

Yusuf had heard enough the previous night to make him determined to keep Nicolò from ever having to go to war again. He wished he could keep his mind from going back there as well.

“If you are dreaming, then I am too,” Yusuf said. He forced a small smile and propped himself up on one elbow. Nicolò turned to look at him, he shrugged and rolled his eyes, almost as if to say,  _ sorry I’m sad, _ which made Yusuf’s chest ache.

He took one of Nicolò’s hand’s in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“What would you like to do today?” Yusuf asked. He brought Nicolò’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles reverently.

Nicolò let out a quiet breath, frozen for a brief moment as he stared at Yusuf’s lips kissing his hand. Then he was dragging Yusuf out of bed. Yusuf went gladly, chuckling as Nicolò stopped in front of the fire- which was little more than glowing embers.

“Wait one moment,” he said, and Yusuf did.

Nicolò knelt down and stoked the coals, adding a new log and maneuvering the scattered pieces from the night before into a pile. He threw a few wood shavings and pieces of bark into the pile and sat back for a moment before they began to catch fire. He gave a satisfied hum, and then turned back to Yusuf.

Nicolò didn’t rise to his feet; instead he pushed up onto his knees and began unlacing Yusuf’s braies.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf breathed out, “you don’t have to-”

“Have to?”

“I just mean- ah-”

Nicolò made quick work of the ties and was already letting the thin linen slide down Yusuf’s legs to pool on the ground at his feet. He leaned forward and kissed Yusuf’s hipbone.   


“You think this is some imposition?” Nicolò asked. He looked up at Yusuf, his lips barely touching the soft skin of his hip.

“N-no,” Yusuf’s breath hitched as Nicolò kissed along his stomach toward his navel, “I don’t need this, is all.”

Nicolò paused and leaned back from Yusuf. His voice was serious when he asked, “do you want me to stop?”

Yusuf shook his head, “no.”

“Yusuf, I have never felt like you pushed me for anything. I know you would always stop if I asked you to, as I would for you,” Nicolò said, running his hands up and down Yusuf’s thighs.

“I know that,” Yusuf said.

“And I have thought of little else but this for years, so if you have no objections-”

“None!” Yusuf interjected.

“Good,” Nicolò said, leaning back into to kiss as low as he could without actually putting his mouth on Yusuf’s cock, before looking back up at him, “then don’t worry about me. I want you, as I have always wanted you, may I have you?”

“Yes,” Yusuf breathed. He had hardly finished the word when Nicolò pulled back enough to take his cock into his mouth.

“Ah- fuck,” Yusuf swore and Nicolò chuckled around him.

Yusuf would have preferred to be more eloquent during their first time coming together after so long apart, but as it was he could only swear, repeatedly tell Nicolò he loved him and groan.

Nicolò worked his mouth around Yusuf’s cock for some time, almost bringing him to climax before pulling off, and pulled him down to kneel in front of him. Yusuf already felt like his head was floating when Nicolò urged him to get on his hands and knees. Nicolò settled behind him.

“I thought about this too- dreamed of it nearly every night,” he whispered into the small of Yusuf’s back.

“Please,” was all Yusuf could think to say, and then he felt large hands gripping his ass and the warm wet of Nicolò’s tongue across his entrance. Yusuf made a noise like he’d been punched in the gut and Nicolò hummed as he traced his tongue in circles around the ring of tight muscle.

He rocked back against Nicolò, who chuckled as he began to lick and suck at Yusuf with more urgency.

It had been so long since they were together, long enough that his body had practically forgotten what it felt like to be at Nicolò’s mercy. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel the touch of his lover’s hands, to feel those lips on his skin.

He cried out with each forgotten sensation. Hands on his hips, his thighs, reaching around to take his cock. Lips on his ass and his rim, tongue probing in and out. All of it was made new and completely breathtaking.

Yusuf knew he was babbling, but he couldn’t for the life of him track the words that were spilling out of his mouth. All he knew was the feeling of Nicolò taking him apart was heavenly.

Nicolò pulled back and Yusuf knew he whined at the loss, only to lose his breath when a slick finger pressed inside him. He didn’t know where or when Nicolò had gotten the oil from and in truth he didn’t care.

Yusuf was babbling again but this time Nicolò was responding saying, “yes” and, “only for you” and, “I love you.”

Yusuf began to come back to himself, his head clearing as Nicolò inserted a second finger. The overwhelmed feeling of being at the mercy of the sensations he was experiencing was slowly replaced with a growing hunger. A heat welled up inside him and he began to fuck himself back onto Nicolò’s fingers.

Nicolò added a third finger and braced his other hand on the small of Yusuf’s back, helping to set them both into the same rhythm. Nicolò set a steady but not overly fast pace, just slow enough so that Yusuf didn’t completely lose himself again. At one point he paused as he poured more oil over his fingers and Yusuf’s hole, before building back up to the steady pace, fucking his fingers into Yusuf. All Yusuf had to do was let his body relax and open for his love.

When Nicolò removed his fingers, Yusuf didn’t whine- but only just. His arms were beginning to shake so he lowered himself until his chest was resting on the ground.

“Lord in heaven,” Nicolò whispered, awe clear and present in his voice.

Yusuf chuckled and turned his head enough to glance back at Nicolò who was slicking up his cock and staring at Yusuf with wide eyes darkened with lust. His face and chest were already pink with an uneven flush.

“You’re gorgeous,” Yusuf mused.

“I am already a sweaty mess and we’ve hardly started.” Nicolò frowned before adding, “I shouldn’t have rebuilt the fire.”

“Hardly started?” Yusuf said with another low laugh.

Nicolò moved so he could line himself with Yusuf’s now well stretched and clenching hole.

“I’ve waited too long for this,” he said as he slowly pushed past Yusuf ‘s rim. Yusuf’s witty retort died in his throat as Nicolò pushed in an inch before pulling back out again.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Nicolò said as he pushed back in.

Yusuf was relaxed enough that his body hardly gave any resistance. He sighed as he felt Nicolò’s cock penetrate deeper that time, but not as deep as he knew it would, before pulling almost all the way out again. Yusuf focused on keeping his breathing steady, which he was failing spectacularly at.

“And after I fuck you, I want you to fuck me,” Nicolò said as he slowly pushed back in. This time not stopping until he was fully sheathed within Yusuf.

“Might have to -ah- wait for that one,” Yusuf said breathlessly, as Nicolò slowly began to move, “I am not as young -ah- as I -fuck- as I once was -fuck, Nicolò- and I don’t think I could -ah, ah, ah- I don’ think I could go again for a- for awhile.”

“Don’t come, then,” Nicolò said, practically matter-of-factly as he began to pick up the pace. Yusuf would have thought he was unaffected by moving in and out of him if it weren't for the fact that he could hear the way that Nicolò’s teeth clenched together every time he spoke.

“S-simple as that?”

“Two years, Yusuf- more than two years. I want to take you inside of me.”

Yusuf nodded more to himself than anything, he felt a slight thrill at having to keep himself under control as Nicolò fucked into him. To let himself be taken by his love, only to turn around and give it right back to him. 

It did not take long for Nicolò to start panting out that he was close. Yusuf was close too, but he wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and willed himself to not follow Nicolò over the edge. Clear-headed as he was from staving off his release, Yusuf was able to appreciate the sounds that Nicolò made as he rocked himself into Yusuf, prolonging his release.

They both panted for a long minute before Nicolò pulled out and sat back. Yusuf rolled over and sat so he was lounging back, propped up on one arm, the other draped lazily over one knee. Nicolò smiled at him. He was still breathless as he laughed lightly and gestured up at Yusuf’s hair.

“What?” Yusuf asked, already knowing the answer. Sex tended to send Yusuf’s hair in every direction, though Nicolò didn’t fair much better, with strands of hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He crossed the short distance to where Nicolò was sitting and knelt between his legs. He pulled Nicolò into a quick kiss before asking, “does my hair offend you?”

Nicolò hummed and shook his head, sliding a hand sling the back of Yusuf’s neck, teasing the short hairs there and pulling Yusuf’s lips back to his own. Yusuf reached down to lightly brush across Nicolò’s soft cock. Nicolò hissed at the over-sensitivity and then laughed into the kiss, as did Yusuf.

“Oh my prince, have I not yet satisfied you?” Nicolò asked.

“You are cruel sometimes,” Yusuf said. He chuckled as he pushed Nicolò down onto his back.

“Cruel? No,” Nicolò said. Yusuf repositioned a leg over his shoulder and pulled Nicolò’s hips toward his own. “I would have said selfish.”

Yusuf grabbed the jar of oil and poured a generous amount onto his fingers.

“Is it selfishness if I want the same things as you?” Yusuf asked as he traced his slick fingers toward their target, circling only once before pushing in. Nicolò gasped in surprise followed by a low moan.

“I suppose not,” Nicolò panted out between gritted teeth.

Clear, focused blue-green eyes looked up at Yusuf, gaze unyielding as he slowly worked Nicolò from one finger up to three. Being at Nicolò’s mercy was one thing, but being the one graced with the honor to take him apart in return was an entirely different experience.

Nicolò had always been the more demanding of the two of them in bed. After their initial fears subsided they fell into an easy rhythm. It was often Nicolò who dictated what occurred between them on any given night.

Yusuf wanted everything- anything he could get from Nicolò. Yusuf suspected that Nicolò noticed his propensity to stall with indecision when faced with all of Nicolò laid out before him, so he just started taking charge. Yusuf didn’t mind. In fact he preferred it that way, being able to simply enjoy whatever was given to him.

That hadn’t changed in the time Nicolò had been gone. If anything, Yusuf now craved his steady and sure knight more than he ever had. Yusuf’s life was spinning further and further out of his control. Nicolò’s guidance allowed him to simply quiet his mind and enjoy their time together.

That morning it seemed Nicolò had missed  _ everything  _ just as much as he had. So Yusuf set to paying Nicolò back, giving as good as he’d received.

\---

Yusuf and Nicolò had grown so much over the years since they had first kissed. Each time they came together for a day, a week, or a month, they made small steps in their relationship. Before Nicolò had been called away, Yusuf had finally felt like they were in sync with one another. He was pleased to see that the time they’d been forced to spend apart had done nothing to send them backwards. They fell into step with each other once more, almost as if no time had been spent apart.

They spent every waking moment together, Nicolò having finally reached an age and a level of respect where he could truly set his own schedule without having to see to other responsibilities. At least for that one week.

In the morning they would have slow, sensual sex before either of them even left the large bed in their rented room. Then one of them would go out to the market to find some fresh fruit for their breakfast.

In the afternoons they found some adventure or another to pursue. Walking through the markets or throwing rocks in the sea while they searched for seashells, or hiking up to the cottage and fucking underneath the orange tree outside.

Yusuf talked at length about what it had been like to slowly take responsibilities from his father, and Nicolò in turn gave Yusuf short anecdotes about his time away.

On the day that they lay together under the orange tree by the cottage, Nicolò told Yusuf about what it felt like to be in the thick of battle. Tears silently spilled from his eyes, wetting the hair on Yusuf’s chest where Nicolò was tucked along his side. Yusuf said little, as he knew Nicolò needed to unburden himself but he vowed to himself that he would not allow Nicolò to be taken against his will into that hell again. He would do whatever was in his power to prevent the nightmares that plagued Nicolò’s every sleep from becoming a reality once more.

The week came to an end too soon. Their time always ended too soon. Yusuf was confident that even when they were finally married he would be loath part with Nicolò, even for an afternoon.

They spent the morning pleasuring each other, as they had all week. They dressed together and Nicolò helped Yusuf pack the few things he had brought with him.

Nicolò followed closely behind Yusuf as he walked down the stairs. Yusuf thought he was attempting to be playful or flirty, but when they reached the last step Nicolò grasped his wrist tightly, halting him just before he stepped out of the stairwell.

“Wait,” he whispered.

Yusuf turned to find Nicolò staring back at him with an apprehensive look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Nicolò worried his bottom lip for a moment before he spoke in a low tone, “I- I want to say goodbye.”

Yusuf blinked back at him, confused. “I thought we could do that at the ship.”

“But-” Nicolò started. He gave a hollow laugh and met Yusuf’s eyes, “people will see.”

_ Oh, Nicolò, always a worrier _ , Yusuf thought to himself fondly.

“Do you not want that?” Yusuf asked.

“No. No, of course I want that. I just wasn’t sure if-”

“I stopped worrying about us being found out a long time ago,” Yusuf said, slowly backing away from Nicolò and out into the main room of the inn. When Nicolò let go of his wrist, Yusuf grabbed his in return and pulled him out with him. “For one thing, my father already knows, as does yours, though he is admittedly less frightening to me. They have already done what they could to try and separate us. It didn’t work. Our relationship is already the worst kept secret in Genova, we might as well extend that to the sailors aboard my ship home.”

Nicolò nodded minutely as Yusuf led him by the hand. When he didn’t immediately panic at being so exposed, Yusuf turned and led him out into the street, still holding his hand tightly. It was not the first time they had held hands in public, far from it, but Yusuf could tell Nicolò’s mind was on the more intimate goodbye ahead of them as his grip on Yusuf’s hand tightened.

“We can go back,” Yusuf said softly, worrying that perhaps he had pushed too far. “We can say our goodbyes in the room if you’d feel more comfortable.”

Nicolò shook his head, “you’re right. There is no logical reason to worry.”

_ Logical.  _ Yusuf smiled at his always analytical love and squeezed Nicolò’s hand.

The walk to the dock where Yusuf’s boat home was moored was far too short, and sooner than he wanted he found himself turning to rub his hands up and down Nicolò’s arms half to help keep the morning chill at bay, half to avoid kissing Nicolò goodbye. Perhaps if he never said goodbye, he wouldn’t have to leave.

Yusuf heard someone clear their throat and then add a tentative, “my prince?”

“It’s  _ your highness _ ,” Andromache said automatically before Yusuf even registered the title.

He pulled back from Nicolò to look at the young sailor, who shifted from foot to foot before speaking again. 

“Oh, uh- Your highness, we must leave soon or we will lose the tide.”

“Thank you,” Yusuf said. He glanced back at Nicolò before adding, “I’ll be there in one moment.”

He was vaguely aware of the sailor retreating back onto the ship.

Yusuf fondly brought his hand up to Nicolò’s cheek.

“Am I wrong?” Nicolò asked, leaning into the touch, “I thought my prince was an acceptable way to address you.”

“Yusuf does not like when people call him that,” Andromache said.

Nicolò’s ears went pink almost instantly and Yusuf felt a flush rise in his own cheeks.

“That is-” Nicolò swallowed loudly, “that is what I call you.”

“Exactly,” Yusuf said with a smile, “and only you are welcome to. I am yours and yours alone. I am  _ your _ prince, my knight.”

Nicolò leaned in to kiss Yusuf at that. He knew they didn’t have an abundance of time to linger, but he allowed himself a moment to wind his arms around Nicolò’s shoulders, while Nicolò pressed his palms into the small of Yusuf’s back. He held tight to his love for one brief moment when they cut off the kiss, before he grabbed Nicolò’s hand and walked the last few feet to the edge of the dock where the gangplank of Yusuf’s ship home was waiting for them.

“I will miss you,” Nicolò whispered.

“As will I, my knight.”

“I love you,” Nicolò smiled, “my prince.”

“I’ll never love another,” Yusuf said. He brought Nicolò’s hand up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Then he kissed Nicolò one last time before they had to separate and he walked up onto the ship.


	16. 1445 - 1446

January 10th 1445

My prince,

I believe this should arrive just before your twenty-eighth birthday. At least I hope it does, as I have included a present for you.

I stumbled across a cartographer while walking down by the docks the other day, and he had a map on hand of the eastern kingdoms. He assures me of its accuracy, and from what I can tell it is- though I am hardly an expert.

That is the map you now hold in your hand. On it is the course I took while I was away from you. I tried my best to remember the dates and happenings of note at each location and recorded them down.

I hope you find it interesting. I’m sorry I didn’t have as much time to write to you as we both would have liked. Hopefully we won’t have to go through such a long separation again.

It’s nice to be able to write to you with the relative certainty that I will receive a reply again- or at least be able to read the reply you do send.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ January 24th 1445 _

_ My thoughtful knight, _

_ Thank you for the gift! _

_ You went to so many places. You were gone for so long that I suppose that makes sense. I just never imagined you being on the move so much. Whenever I imagined you I thought of you camped in one place, bored out of your mind until the fighting started. But with how far you went and how often you moved it’s a wonder you had time to write me the few letters you did. _

_ I miss you already. May I come see you again? _

_ Perhaps I can be there on the 22nd, nine years since we first met. Not that I need an excuse to come see you, but I do enjoy a romantically significant date, as you have previously pointed out. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

February 1st 1445

My prince,

The answer to that question will never be no. Yes, of course you may come see me!

When you come it will be the height of orange season. Perhaps you, my clever lover, can think of some way for us to entertain ourselves with them.

I eagerly await your arrival!

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ March 19th 1445 _

_ My love, the sole inhabitant of my thoughts, _

_ Every time I see you, Nicolò, it gets harder to leave. Whenever I have to leave you it gets harder to bear your absence in my life. Every moment I am away from you it gets harder to keep myself from running right back to you. _

_ You are my northern star, my Nicolò, the light that leads me home. When I speak of home you must know that I do not mean Tunis. _

_ You are as a guiding star to me, but the brightness of your eyes would shame the actual stars if you ever rose to heaven. You are too bright for them anyway, too strong and too pivotal to be simply a star. _

_ So I must come to the conclusion that you are the moon. My time with you may wax and wane as we are pulled in the many directions that our duties and fates dictate, but you always return to me, just as bright and beautiful as before. _

_ In truth, Nicolò, I do not know what you could even see in me- you are the moon, I am just a man. What could a celestial being want with a creature of the earth? _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

March 28th 1445

My prince,

Just. JUST? Just a man…

Who could you ever say such a thing about yourself? I am sure you mean to flatter me with your beautiful words (and they are beautiful. Thank you- I love you) but I cannot allow you to sell yourself so short. You could never be JUST anything.

You are a bright warm comfort to me.

You make me feel protected and cherished, as I hope you feel protected and cherished by me. In that we are a perfect match, and that is all that matters.

If I am the moon, Yusuf, then you are the sun. Everything you see in me is a reflection of the light and joy you bring to my life every day.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ April 8th 1445 _

_ Nicolò, the moon to my sun and the brightest of stars, _

_ Well, my love, I wish I could give in to my desire to come see you again, unfortunately my father’s advisors… or my advisors… I don’t know. THE ADVISORS have suggested that I take a tour of the kingdom this summer. The doctors say my father shall likely pass within the year and the advisors think it would be a good idea for me to reacquaint myself with some of the more popular and influential nobles. I can’t say that I disagree, especially if I am to count on their support if and when I take my father’s throne.  _

_ I do not intend to make the trip overly long, perhaps three or four months? Although knowing how these trips have gone in the past I would not be surprised if it stretched longer. _

_ As always may I request at least one letter while I am gone? I promise to write to you the moment I am home. I will miss you on my travels. _

_ Perhaps next time I take such a trip, you will be there to accompany me. I have not forgotten that this summer will be nine years since you first kissed me. Nor have I forgotten the goal I once set of ten years. _

_ Soon, my love, I promise you soon. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

July 14th 1445

My prince,

I miss you, of course I miss you, do I even need to write it? If I were to truly tell you how much I missed you it would take up more pages then I currently have at my disposal.

I yearn to see your face. I long to hear your voice. I crave the feeling of your hands on my body. 

Unfortunately the only real news I have to report is that we are once more hearing rumors of the fighting in the east starting up again. I pray every night and every morning that we do not get called to go back there again. Shamefully and dishonorably those prayers are not out of concern for my men or the men currently fighting at the front. No, my prayers consist almost exclusively of begging God to not take me from you.

I’m sorry if this worries you upon reading it, I am sure I will not have been called back to fight while you are away.

Let me know the moment you are home!

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ September 23rd 1445 _

_ Nicolò, the singular object of affection and desire, _

_ Once again I may happily write these words to you: I am home! _

_ I have asked after the situation in the east and my advisors have said that they heard nothing about more soldiers being called from Genova. So I will attempt to stay calm until you respond to this letter. _

_ Nile has spent the last three months visiting Sébastien in Paris, and I returned home to a request for her to stay longer, one which I do not begrudge her. Autumn is beautiful in France, I’m sure Sébastien is showing her a good time. _

_ Your birthday is soon, and while I know this will reach you well before then I want to make sure my gift arrives on time.  _

_ I spent a lot of time drawing while I was away. You will notice I have only included one likeness of you (which is not an accurate representation of how often I put charcoal to parchment and ended up with a drawing of your lovely face). You will also notice a number of sketches of oranges and a particular orange tree. Breakfast has become increasingly difficult for me as I feel juice running down my chin as I eat and can only think of that juice running down your body. _

_ My time away was fairly uneventful, mostly just ingratiating myself to nobles who haven’t seen me in years, but it is good to be able to count on their support in the future. _

_ Another year passed for us while I was gone. Nine now. It seems both as though no time and that an entire lifetime has passed at the same time. I would spend infinite lifetimes with you if given the chance. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

_ One more year- I hope I am able to make good on my promise. Nile’s lengthened stay in Paris makes me think it may actually be possible. _

**\---**

October 23rd 1445

My prince,

Thank you for my gift! I am sure you would have loved to see the color of my cheeks when I saw the drawing you did of me. I am very glad I was alone when I read your letter because seeing the oranges and your innuendo to how we have used them in the past cause a heat to rise in my cheeks again.

Indeed we continue to hear things about ongoing unrest in the east but I have not been called away.

Now that you are home perhaps we (you- because I assume I would still not be welcome in Tunis) could make time to see each other? I know you must be busy since returning home after months away but when you have the chance… I miss you, is all.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ November 6th 1445 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ My father is dead. _

_ They went to his room this morning and found him still in bed. They let me see him. He looked almost peaceful. _

_ I feel strange. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m upset and I can’t seem to pinpoint why. I am sure everyone around me assumes that I am merely mourning my father. (their pitying glances finally drove me to find refuge in my room and write to you). _

_ I feel guilty. _

_ I am upset with him. I have spent most of the last decade hardly speaking to the man outside of official business. And yet I still cannot put that aside to mourn him? _

_ And when my thoughts finally turn to sadness I feel cheated out of my anger. Am I not allowed to feel anger at the things he has forced me into- the things he has forced me to keep at arm's length? _

_ My thoughts are jumbled. I do not know what to do or how to feel. _

_ May I make a request of you? Please do not stop calling me your prince. _

_ I awoke this morning to people telling me my father was dead, and immediately proclaiming their fealty to me as their new king. _

_ One day, when you are my husband and consort and I can call you my king in return I will love to hear you say it. Until then please do not change anything about us. Too much is changing already. I need you to be constant. Please. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

November 21st 1445

Oh, my darling prince,

I am so sorry, my love, I cannot imagine what you must be going through. I wish I could comfort you in person, but for now our letters will have to suffice.

I know the two of you had a less than perfect relationship, it’s alright to still be upset with him. I somehow think you will not have trouble with that. I think you will have more difficulty with this one, though: he was your father, you are allowed to mourn him. You can be upset with him and also miss him. You are not betraying your anger by being sad, nor your sadness by still being mad.

I love you. I will always love you. Whatever you need from me right now, just say the word and I will move mountains to see it done.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ January 11th 1446 _

_ My knight, _

_ I am sorry it has taken me so long to reply. Things have been rather hectic, as I’m sure you can imagine. _

_ I have tried to take your words to heart. It is still confusing and depressing to think of my father but I am doing better. _

_ I wish I could come see you but I simply cannot be spared at the moment. My mother has thrown herself into planning my coronation, and I am left to attempt to fill my father’s shoes officially. _

_ I knew this day was coming but I had the stupid thought that since I had already been doing most of my father’s work for him that it would be an easy transition. _

_ It has not been so. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

February 3rd 1446

My prince,

There is no need to apologize to me for taking a while to answer a letter, especially not right now.

I am sorry you are feeling overwhelmed, I know it is a lot now but I am sure things will calm down soon. This is all just very new, you will get the hang of things with time. Try to remember how stressed you are now for when you are having to teach me how to assist you… which will be someday soon I hope.

Is that presumptuous of me? You have told me many times that you wish to marry me, so I hope I am not overstepping. At the very least I hope to help lessen your burdens someday.

I worry about you. I hope you are getting enough to eat, and enough sleep. Please promise me you are taking care of yourself in the middle of all this.

I hope your stresses have lessened by the next time you write me.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ March 27th 1446 _

_ Sir Nicolò, my knight, _

_ I feel like a prince from those stories we were told as children about gallant knights coming to rescue their love from a tower or a prison. My captor is simply a mountain of trade deals, tax ledgers and grain allotments, but it is no less fearsome than a dragon or a wicked witch. If I asked you to come save me, would you?  _

_ All daydreaming aside, I cannot wait to have you here with me. _

_ And to that I must say that Nicolò, you do not have presumptuous bone in your body. Though I do keep forgetting to make my intentions definite when it comes to you… I know I tend to let my words run away with me, so let me be clear. I intend to marry you someday- soon, I hope. And when I do marry you I intend to give you the title of King Consort. I absolutely want you by my side and look forward to your tactical and practical mind helping me to rule. _

_ I am sorry for worrying you. I am indeed taking care of myself- or at the very least being taken care of. My mother and sisters (and even Andromache) are doing a wonderful job of making sure that no matter how overwhelmed I become that I at least get rest and eat. _

_ Do you know what would be a wonderful stress reliever? Having you here. Now, I would want you here for more than just this… but I cannot deny that I wish I could crawl into bed with you every night. OH! To feel you move on top of me. In me. That would ease my stress considerably. _

_ It has been over a year since I saw you. I wish I had the time to come see you myself. Though I suppose you could always come here now. There is no longer anything barring your visits… could you do that? That is, I mean to say, would you be able to get away from your duties to come to Tunis? _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

April 9th 1446

My prince,

Of course I could get away. To see you I would do whatever I needed to do to come to you. Say the word, Yusuf, and I will be there.

I would also come to your rescue would you ever find yourself in the clutches of a dragon or a witch, however unlikely.

You have given me far too many things to imagine in your previous letter: rescuing you, marrying you, being titled and ruling by your side. I am particularly interested in the stress relief you spoke of. I imagine the bed of a king is somewhat larger than the ones we have enjoyed in the past. What would we do with all that extra space?

Send for me soon, my love. I long to relieve you of your stress. Strictly practical. A selfless act on my part. You need someone to help you relax, and I am eager to provide (any enjoyment on my part would simply be a surprise outcome- if you catch my meaning).

Your knight,

Nicolò

We hear more and more of the war. I really do worry that we will be called back soon. So truly, call me to your side quickly. That I DO ask selfishly.

**\---**

May 26th 1446

Sir Nicolò di Genova,

Your presence is requested in Tunis on July the thirty-first, fourteen forty-six, at the coronation of his Majesty, King Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani.

_ Please say you can be there- you are the only person I want there with me- the only one that matters. You need not make arrangements for accommodations. -Your prince _


	17. Moving Forward

Yusuf was sitting under his olive tree reading when Andromache walked into the garden with a smile on her face.

“He’s here,” she said simply.

“Who is?” Yusuf demanded, jumping up from the bench. He already knew the answer.

Andromache tilted her head, meaning for Yusuf to follow her. He closed his book and left it abandoned on the bench.

Andromache led the way to the throne room, and Yusuf fussed with his shirt and hair. He had not heard anything from Nicolò since sending the invitation, though he had not expected to. As was the nature of these things, he wasn’t quite sure what day Nicolò would arrive. He’d been hopefully looking up at every maid or advisor that entered with news for the past three days.

Yusuf pushed the doors to the throne room open and felt a stab of disappointment when he didn’t see Nicolò at first. He scanned the room, finding it empty, save for a few guards. Then he saw him, on the far side of the large hall, gazing up at a large portrait of Yusuf and his late father.

Yusuf walked over slowly, not taking care to be quiet. He was sure Nicolò knew he was there from the moment he opened the door, he was too observant not to.

“He looks kinder than I remember,” Nicolò said as Yusuf came to stand next to him.

The portrait in question was relatively new. Yusuf was standing behind his father, who was seated on the throne. It was painted in the time Nicolò was away at war, both him and his father were smiling in it. Yusuf was confident neither of them were smiling on the day.

“Artistic license?” Yusuf offered with a shrug.

Nicolò shook his head and crossed his arms. “No, I don’t think that’s it.”

Yusuf mirrored Nicolò’s pose and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I think I must have just seen him at his worst- or at the very least his most protective and worried,” Nicolò said. Yusuf scoffed. “I understand him, I think. He didn’t think I was good enough for you.”

“He was wrong,” Yusuf said with as much authority as he could muster. 

Nicolò clicked his tongue and finally turned to face him, arms still crossed, with a small smile on his face. He really was the most handsome man Yusuf had ever laid his eyes on. Beyond that though, he was thoughtful and smart, and he was the perfect match to every one of Yusuf’s flaws, just as he knew he was for Nicolò’s.

“Hello,” Nicolò said.

“Hello,” Yusuf said back.

Nicolò tilted his head to the side and lifted his eyebrows slightly, “should I bow?”

“You never have before,” Yusuf said, cocking an eyebrow of his own.

“That's why he didn’t like me, a lack of respect.”

A surprised and too-loud laugh burst out of Yusuf. “I highly doubt that.”

“No, Yusuf, everyone says so.  _ Oh, Nicolò, if only you were not so loud and intrusive. _ ”

“I have never in my life heard such a ridiculous fabrication,” Yusuf chuckled. He finally leaned in and kissed the knight. When he pulled away he whispered, “you are not a good liar, my love,” into the space between their lips.

Nicolò simply smiled and leaned his forehead against Yusuf’s, closing his eyes. After a moment he took a deep breath and said, “I’m glad to be back in your arms.”

Yusuf took a deep breath of his own,  _ now or never _ .

“You will never need to leave them again,” he said. When Nicolò pulled back and his eyes snapped open in surprise, Yusuf hastily added, “if you don’t want to.”

“But-” Nicolò started and Yusuf felt panic twist in his gut, “but Nile-”

“Was released from her marriage contract almost as soon as my father passed. I expect her and Sébastien will make a fine couple when the time comes. He is dragging his feet, though.”

“You-” Nicolò’s voice trailed off and he shook his head, “are you-”

“Asking you to marry me?” Yusuf supplied.

Nicolò nodded slowly, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes, I suppose I am,” Yusuf said. When Nicolò said nothing, Yusuf asked, “should I get down on one knee?”

Nicolò still stood staring back at him, unmoving. 

Yusuf shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to make of Nicolò’s sudden shift in demeanor. He looked around them at the few workers and guards in the room who were all too far away to have heard their conversation, so he got no help from their reactions.

“Yusuf, you cannot be serious,” Nicolò said in a tone that made it sound like Yusuf had just told him the ocean was on fire.

Yusuf didn’t know what to say so he grabbed Nicolò’s hand and lowered himself to one knee.

“Yusuf, I’m not-” Nicolò started but Yusuf cut him off. He recognized the look of disbelief in his beloved’s eyes, like he believed the lie that the inferiority of his birth made him unfit to be loved by a prince- by a king.

“If you want me to stop, I will, but don’t tell me you aren’t good enough, don’t tell me you aren’t worthy,” Yusuf looked up at Nicolò, whose eyes softened. He nodded for Yusuf to continue.

“I love you. If nothing else, that should be enough. If all that you were was someone I loved, I would still want to have you by my side. But oh, Nicolò, my love, my moon, you are so much more than  _ just  _ the man that I love.

“You are an expertly trained knight and battle tested soldier. You always say what you mean, but you are never cruel. Yes, you and I come from different worlds, but your upbringing, which was so wholly different to my own, is an asset, not a mark against you. Regardless of what you might think, Nicolò, you  _ are  _ perfect, and you are unquestionably perfect for me.”

Yusuf stopped for a moment and searched Nicolò’s eyes which were still fixed on his own, the slight glimmer of emotion shining in them. Yusuf swallowed, knowing he needed to be explicit, he held so much more power than Nicolò did in their relationship- as much as it pained him to admit. He took a deep breath and asked the question he’d been wanting to ask for a decade.

“Nicolò, will you rule this kingdom by my side? Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

Nicolò leaned down and pressed his lips to Yusuf’s, then pulled him up to stand. After a few slow kisses Nicolò pulled back and said, “you are an incurable romantic, do you know that?”

“Is that a yes?” Yusuf asked, feeling his heart beat faster. 

“Of course it is, _ habib albi _ ,” Nicolò said with his classic small smile.

Yusuf threw his arms around Nicolò’s waist and picked him up into a tight hug, spinning in a single circle. A laugh bubbled out of his chest, one born of finally -finally- having what his heart had wanted for years. When he set Nicolò down again he too looked like he was the happiest he had ever been.

“Well, now that I have that out of the way, tell me, my love,” Yusuf said with a grin, “how was your trip from Genova?”

Nicolò tilted his head back and laughed.

\---

The afternoon moved slowly. He introduced Nicolò first to his advisors, then his mother and sisters- around the fourth or fifth introduction Yusuf began to regret having proposed to Nicolò first thing when he arrived. All he wanted to do was spirit Nicolò away to his room and finally be alone with him. Instead they were being put through an endless procession of formalities.

Nicolò, of course, took it all in stride. He was polite and it was obvious he was trying to pay attention to everything- taking extra care to repeat people’s names back to them to show that he was listening. Yusuf got the sense that he was trying to make a good impression, which was completely unnecessary. Nicolò was one of the most polite and -despite his sometimes stoic and intimidating demeanor- he was easy to get along with as soon as you spoke to him.

There was a small part of Yusuf that was overflowing with pride at how instantly Nicolò took to speaking with the important people of his court. There was a much larger part that just wanted to get him alone.

“Nicolò has been traveling for nearly a week so I’m going to show him to my room,” Yusuf said after another lord attempted to engage Nicolò in what would no doubt be a lengthy conversation.

Nicolò flinched and looked between him and the lord. The lord in question graciously bowed his head with a murmured,  _ Your Highness _ .

Yusuf put a hand at Nicolò’s back to guide him out of the hall and through the palace until they reached his private rooms. He finally closed the doors with them both inside, away from anyone else. He sighed and leaned his forehead against the door for a moment before turning around to see Nicolò turning slowly on the spot a few feet from him gaping at the spacious solar.

“I apologize for that,” Yusuf said.

Nicolò nodded minutely, continuing to take in the space. It was sparsely decorated compared to how his father had kept it, but the bare walls alone were still quite impressive and far from simple. The room had a few chairs and a small table, all of it very functional. It was a place for Yusuf to do work, and take meetings rather than one he enjoyed spending time in. Yusuf still felt like he was half living out of his old rooms and he had liked the idea of being able to furnish the rooms with Nicolò’s input, so he had done very little with the space.

“Did you mean to say that?” Nicolò asked.

“Mean to say what?” Yusuf pushed himself off the door and closed the gap between them. Nicolò stood his ground.

“That you would be showing me to your room.”

Yusuf nodded, unable to hide the smile that appeared on his face. He reached out and took Nicolò’s hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it.

“So, people know about us,” Nicolò said slowly, “we- we don’t have to hide?”

“Well, you are my fiancé now. They will have to get used to the idea eventually.”

“You didn’t introduce me that way.”

“Ah- well, I wanted to get the chance to speak with you first about that,” Yusuf said. He led Nicolò to the small table and motioned for him to take the seat across from him. “I’m sorry if that was overwhelming, I should have waited to propose until I knew we could have time alone together.”

Nicolò smiled and shook his head.

“We are alone now, are we not?” Nicolò asked, the barest hint of teasing in his voice. So subtle that one might have missed it, but Yusuf knew- he always knew.

“That we are,” Yusuf said with a wry smile. He leaned back in his chair and started pulling at the ties of his doublet.

“I do want to finish this conversation later-” Nicolò said as he stood up and started removing his own shirt.

“Of course,” Yusuf said, stripping his doublet and moving onto his pants.

“Because it would be nice to know where I stand and what people expect of me-”

“Absolutely,” Yusuf said. He bucked his hips off the chair to remove his pants.

“But right now it’s been over a year and I don’t think I’ll be able to think straight until we-”

“Goodness, Nicolò. I’m already mostly naked, you really should catch up.”

“Right.” Nicolò shook his head with a small laugh and set to discarding the rest of his clothing. 

\---

Half an hour later the two men were lying sweaty and gasping at the edge of Yusuf’s large bed.

Yusuf was draped over Nicolò’s back, still half standing where he had his fiancé bent over the side of the bed.

“I didn’t get the chance to really take in this bed before you were throwing me onto it,” Nicolò said once his breathing began to even out.

Yusuf rolled onto his back, his legs still hanging off the side of the bed.

“Do you like it?” Yusuf asked. He draped an arm over his eyes and took a few slow breaths.

“It is quite large,” Nicolò said.

Yusuf laughed and peaked out from under his arm to see Nicolò still on his back with his head tilted all the back to look up at the rest of the bed.

“Too large?”

Nicolò rolled onto his side to face Yusuf and shook his head. “No. I just can’t imagine us ever needing  _ this much  _ space.”

Yusuf rolled onto his side as well and propped his head up on his hand. “Can you think of nothing we could use the space for?”

“Yusuf, you sleep practically on top of me when we are together.”

Yusuf let out a surprised laugh as Nicolò grinned back at him. He reached out and laid a hand on his love’s hip, stroking a thumb over his hip bone. “And what about when we are awake?”

Nicolò shook his head, still grinning.

“You are trying to get me to approve of this monstrous bed, and I will do no such thing,” he said with a feigned exasperation. “If I sat on the other side of the bed I am confident you could not reach me.” He grabbed Yusuf’s hand and brought it up to his mouth brushing his lips softly over the back of it. He whispered against the back of his hand, “I don’t like being far away from you.”

Yusuf smiled and concentrated on the feeling of Nicolò’s breath ghosting over his hand.

“You don’t have to be far away from me any more,” he said. Nicolò closed his eyes and his smile widened, and fondness seized Yusuf’s chest.

“Did that really happen? Are we really engaged to be married? Are we finally going to be together?” Nicolò asked.

“Yes to all three.”

“Good,” Nicolò said simply. “I do think I would need to go home first, though.” He chuckled and sat up.

“Right- no, of course,” Yusuf said sitting up as well, “that was part of the reason I didn’t immediately announce you as my fiancé- well that, and I do not believe my advisors would take kindly to me upstaging my own coronation with an engagement announcement.”

“So we don’t tell anyone?” Nicolò said, sitting up as well.

“At least until after the coronation,” Yusuf said. “Though if you wanted-”

“No, no. It’s smart to put it off until I can officially take up residence here and am prepared to take on whatever responsibilities you need me for.”

“Oh I can think of plenty of responsibilities I need you for right now.” Yusuf grinned at Nicolò.

“You must be joking,” Nicolò scoffed. He shook his head fondly and failed to hide a grin when Yusuf simply cocked an eyebrow at him. “And you call  _ me _ insatiable.”

Yusuf placed a hand on Nicolò’s bare thigh and leaned in to nip at his ear. Nicolò hummed contently and tilted his head toward Yusuf. He smelled like sweat and ocean water- probably due to the fact that he had only stepped off a ship a few hours prior.

“I should let you wash up and rest,” Yusuf whispered. He kissed behind Nicolò’s ear

“I am quite tired,” Nicolò said seriously, “I might fall asleep before I can wash myself. I may need your help.”

Yusuf laughed and turned Nicolò’s face to look at him with a gentle hand on his cheek. He looked his love straight in the eyes, and with as much sincerity as he could muster said, “insatiable.”

Nicolò simply chuckled and pulled Yusuf into a kiss.

\---

The days leading up to Yusuf’s coronation were stressful and he felt like he had practically no time for anything other than business and making seemingly useless decisions about his coronation and the ball to follow. It was also the first time Yusuf had felt any sort of contentment since his father had passed.

Nicolò was there through it all. Even when Yusuf suggested he leave and explore the palace or the city -with an armed escort, of course- he politely declined and insisted he enjoyed watching Yusuf work. It was wonderfully convenient that he had Nicolò there for the few small moments he found for himself throughout the day.

Nicolò was good at hiding his emotions but Yusuf knew most of his intended’s desire not to leave came from how much he had missed him. Yusuf felt the same, simply being in the same room was a blessing. Every small laugh or quip from where Nicolò sat reading in the corner was not only welcome but made meetings with stuffy nobles more enjoyable. Watching them become flustered and confused as they tried to puzzle out who this man sitting in the corner was but being unable to question their king about the presence of the intruder made the days pass much faster than normal.

The nights were more enjoyable as well. Nicolò complained, at length, about how big the bed was and Yusuf was too tired to do anything most nights (though he made up for that each morning) but Yusuf had never been so happy. He promised Nicolò he would work on getting them a smaller bed while he was back in Genova and that things would not be quite as hectic once he returned. 

Nicolò shushed him every time he tried to apologize for being busy.  _ I’m just happy to be here with you, _ he would say and then kiss Yusuf sweetly, which often turned into Nicolò climbing onto his lap, kissing him a bit less sweetly until another meeting announced itself with a knock at the door. Nicolò would return to his spot across the room and pretend to be reading while he glanced at Yusuf and bit his lip in an effort to get a reaction out of him.

The coronation was nothing short of ostentatious. There were hundreds of candles lining every wall and hanging from the ceiling, perched inside crystal chandeliers that caused the light to dance and shift through the throne room.

From where he waited in a room off the main hall Yusuf could hear the echoing babble of the crowd who had gathered to see him officially crowned king of Tunisia.

There were very few people he actually cared about out there, but the ones that mattered were in attendance. His family and Nicolò of course. He knew Sébastien and Nile had arrived the day before. Nicolò had seen them but he had not had the chance to greet them himself.

Small moments like that were already cropping up. Regardless of how in love he was with Nicolò and how much he wanted to marry him for his own reasons, it was also extremely apparent how invaluable having a consort would be to his day to day life. Nicolò hadn’t even been told to do anything and he just fell into place at Yusuf’s side. Somehow already finding ways to fit into his role before he even technically inhabited it.

The tone in the hall outside shifted as the ceremony began. Yusuf looked down and adjusted the front of his shirt nervously. He was dressed in deep burgundy and with golden yellow trim- the colors of his house. He took a deep breath and walked out into the hall.

Once he walked out onto the platform the din of the crowd dissipated into the back of his mind and the opulence of the light dancing down upon him blurred into his peripheral. His attention focused down to two points. He saw the crown waiting on its pedestal with his mother standing next to it and Nicolò standing in the first row of the crowd, giving him a small reassuring smile.

The ceremony was not long, one of his advisors spoke, then a high ranking lord, then his mother. All of them saying poetic things about new beginnings while remembering their past and traditions. Yusuf already knew what they were saying- he’d been part of the committee that approved everything about that day. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to pay attention regardless of his prior knowledge, though- he was too busy stealing glances at Nicolò.

Nicolò, who had done the same thing to him when he was knighted. They were in a decidedly better place now, no doubts from either man about what their feelings were. 

The way Nicolò -handsome, stoic Nicolò- gazed up at him with a look of pure adoration. Anyone else in the room may have only seen someone with a generally pleasant look on their face, but Yusuf knew him too well after all these years. The way his eyes were a little wider than normal, with the faintest trace of emotion shining in them. His mouth turned up at the corners, not quite a smile, not even a smirk, but still there, small and perfect and only for him.

The ceremony ended in a blur. Yusuf took a vow to protect and lead the kingdom justly, he was officially announced as the new king and was quickly spirited away to another room to prepare for the ball that evening.

It took him nearly an hour to convince someone to go track down Nicolò and bring him to where he was getting ready.

“Nicolò!” Yusuf exclaimed when he saw him enter out of the corner of his eye, there was an attendant doing up the laces on the front of his doublet or he would have turned.

Nicolò walked around Yusuf’s front and leaned against a wall, just out of reach. He looked stunning. He was wearing a dark, rich green doublet with gold embroidery that looked strangely familiar.

“My prince,” Nicolò said. One of the attendants gasped but the knight cocked an eyebrow at Yusuf, he knew what he was doing.

Yusuf smiled as the attendant fussing over his clothing finally seemed satisfied to step back from him. He threw an arm around Nicolò’s neck and kissed his nose.

“My knight,” Yusuf said, enthusiastically.

“Are you already in your cups?” Nicolò said, with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice.

“Hardly,” Yusuf said.

Andromache gave a short laugh from the corner.

“I have had a single cup of wine.”

“Two cups,” Andromache corrected.

“I have had two cups of wine,” Yusuf agreed, not really caring to be embarrassed when his head was feeling slightly floaty.

Nicolò chuckled and gave Yusuf a quick kiss before stepping back and looking him over, “ I do not believe I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

“It doesn’t happen often.”

“Obviously.”

Yusuf narrowed his eyes at the smug look on Nicolò’s face.

“Well, I have never seen you drunk either,” Yusuf shot back, as if it was an accusation.

“I’m a soldier, Yusuf. I drink often and at times to excess.”

“Really?” Yusuf asked. He was a little shocked, he had never even so much as seen Nicolò hold a cup of anything but water.

“Really.”

Yusuf nodded to himself, feeling a bit silly at how out of sorts he felt after having such a small amount to drink.

“I want to get you drunk tonight,” Yusuf stated. He grabbed the front of Nicolò’s shirt and pulled him close until they were chest to chest. “You look very handsome, you always look handsome, but you look handsome now as well. I like this color on you.”

“I’m glad you approve and you are welcome to look, my love, but you did have this made for me specifically for tonight.”

Oh yes- he had done that. Yusuf shook his head again, trying to focus on the man in front of him.

“This is not fair,” he said, “you need to catch up to me.”

Nicolò took a goblet out of Yusuf’s hand that he had forgotten he was holding and drained the remaining wine from it with one long swallow. Yusuf watched his throat bob slightly and his mouth went dry. 

Nicolò refilled the cup and took a sip before holding it up to Yusuf's lips, letting him take a small drink from it as well.

“I’ll see what I can do about that.”

\---

In direct opposition of the coronation, the ball was loud and joyous.

Yusuf insisted on entering with Nicolò at his side. They may not have been completely ready to announce their engagement but Yusuf didn’t want a doubt in anyone’s mind that he was with Nicolò.

He led Nicolò directly to the dance floor where he was meant to open the ball with a first dance. Traditionally, being unmarried and not publicly engaged, he would have picked someone of political importance to bestow the honor of opening the ball with him -Nicolò had even been prepared for that by Andromache- but Yusuf was a stubborn man, and just drunk enough not to care about what things  _ looked  _ like to outsiders.

They reached the center of the hall and Yusuf pulled Nicolò close to him as the music started.

“I- I don’t know any local dances,” Nicolò said, trying to step back from him.

“So?”

“You should pick someone who knows what they’re doing, really Yusuf, I don’t mind.”

“You’re fine, just follow my lead.”

Luckily the music being played was not overly fast and though they had never been able to dance together before, it seemed Nicolò had some experience as he fell in step with Yusuf quite quickly.

“How does it feel to be king?” Nicolò asked once it seemed like he was not going to trip over himself trying to pick up the steps.

“I was king from the moment my father died,” Yusuf said seriously. Nicolò tilted his head to the side and made an unimpressed face. Yusuf sighed but reanswered the question, “it doesn’t feel much different. I like being able to push a few boundaries though.”

He purposefully pulled Nicolò in closer to him, moving them through the steps that were meant to be formal in a more intimate fashion.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò warned.

Yusuf laughed and relaxed his grip until they were back to an acceptable position.

“I just needed to make sure no one was getting any ideas.”

Nicolò shook his head but didn’t respond, and they danced the rest of the song in silence.

With the ball officially opened Yusuf couldn’t avoid accepting invitations to dance from a few of his more bold guests. He always came back to Nicolò between his other partners. He found it rather endearing that when Yusuf wasn’t occupying his time Nicolò was surrounded by curious members of the court and visiting nobles. No doubt wanting to glean what they could from a man none of them had seen before and who appeared to be the king’s favorite.

Yusuf recognized Sébastien pulling Nicolò away from the throng just as Nile approached him at the end of a song. They danced two songs together before joining Nicolò and Sébastien.

Yusuf had been nervous for Nicolò and Nile to meet each other but they seemed to get along right away, bonding over poking fun at Yusuf, which he couldn’t bring himself to actually be offended by.

True to his word, Nicolò drank quite a bit throughout the evening. Yusuf noticed no difference in his demeanor, though that could have been because he continued to drink as well.

The evening had begun to wind down when Yusuf finally seized the opportunity to grab Nicolò’s hand and slip outside onto a terrace near his olive tree. They were both well and truly drunk by that point. Yusuf attempted to set his drink down on a railing at the edge of the terrace and the crystal went tumbling off the edge, shattering on the pathway below. There was a moment of stunned silence and then they were both laughing loudly.

“I suppose that is a sign for me to stop for the evening,” Yusuf mused. He turned around to find Nicolò grinning back at him from a few feet away, a cup of wine still clasped in his hand.

Yusuf stared at his love standing illuminated half by light from within the hall, half from the moon. He was stunning.

He carried himself in a way that already looked so positively royal and important, perhaps a bit more stiff than Yusuf tended to stand, but he also knew that as an outsider, Nicolò would be judged more harshly than Yusuf ever had been.

“Have I told you yet how handsome you look tonight?” Yusuf asked, ignoring how his speech slurred slightly on the word  _ handsome _ .

“Several times,” Nicolò replied, obviously amused.

“Are you not affected at all by alcohol?” Yusuf asked. Right on cue, he wobbled slightly where he stood and had to lean back against the railing, “because I can hardly stand straight.”

“I assure you I am affected,” Nicolò laughed and shifted his weight to one leg. He titled his head as his eyes slowly, obviously, looked Yusuf up and down. When his gaze came back to Yusuf’s own he wet his bottom lip with the smallest sweep of his tongue and shifted his weight to his other leg.

“I want to take you right here and now,” Yusuf said. The alcohol had silenced the part of him that stopped every thought that came to his mind from spilling out of his mouth. Nicolò instantly narrowed his eyes, his entire body going stiff.

They stood at their opposite ends of the small courtyard staring at each other. Then Nicolò casually stepped to the side and dipped down to place his wine on the ground. Yusuf almost thought he was moving to leave- perhaps made uncomfortable by Yusuf’s intense suggestion, but as soon as he was out of sight of the large windows he leaned against a light colored wall.

Nicolò was leaning in such a way that his hips were slightly pushed out from the wall, particularly prominent as he moved his hands to his front. His eyes did not leave Yusuf’s as he began to unlace the front of his pants.

Yusuf stood frozen where he was at the railing, not daring to move. He was confident that no one knew they were even out in the small garden, but he still convinced himself that if someone were to look out the windows and saw him move too quickly, too eagerly, they would guess what was about to happen.

He gripped the railing tightly where he leaned against it as Nicolò pushed his pants down slightly, revealing that he was already half hard. He gave himself a few slow strokes before he looked up at Yusuf. He titled his head slightly and let the side of his mouth twitch up; it was an invitation and a challenge all in one.

“And what would you have me do, sir?” Yusuf asked. He was grinning from ear to ear, unable to hide how much he was enjoying their current ridiculous situation.

“Not a thing,” Nicolò said, still staring amusedly back at Yusuf. He stroked himself again, and tilted his head back against the wall with a sigh.

Yusuf’s mouth went dry as he watched Nicolò start to come undone before his eyes. He gripped the railing tighter as if it was the only thing keeping him from rushing to Nicolò.

Just as Nicolò looked like he was about to fall over the edge of his pleasure he stopped with a broken off gasp and pressed his palms to his eyes, breathing erratically. Yusuf watched a small droplet collect at the tip of Nicolò’s cock and moaned louder than he intended. Nicolò laughed at that and moved one hand to peer across the courtyard.

“Beloved,” Nicolò said, drawing Yusuf’s eyes up from staring at his leaking cock to to his blue-green eyes, “come fuck me.”

Yusuf nodded and finally pushed himself away from the railing. He closed the space between them in three large strides, no longer caring what he looked like to anyone who happened to be looking out the large windows.

As soon as he was out of sight of the party he set to untying his own pants. Nicolò pulled him in by his hips until the backs of Yusuf’s hands were knocking into his fiancé’s stomach as he worked. As soon as his cock was free Yusuf licked his palm and gripped both his and Nicolò’s length’s together and gave a precursory stroke.

They both groaned and Yusuf could already feel himself spiraling toward release as he stroked them again. Nicolò leaned his forehead onto Yusuf’s shoulder, his grip tightening on Yusuf’s hips.

Yusuf turned his head to kiss lightly at Nicolò’s hair.

“Fuck me, Yusuf,” Nicolò said again.

Yusuf moaned and his hips bucked forward into his hand at the request.

“I don’t have anything,” Yusuf groaned against the side of Nicolò’s head.

“It’s fine I can take it,” Nicolò answered, desperation and lust dripping from his voice.

Yusuf said, “Nicolò,” in the most stern voice he could muster through his own want.

Nicolò leaned his head back against the wall and let out a frustrated sigh. “At least use my legs,” he gasped out as Yusuf’s hand stuttered over their dicks. Yusuf leaned forward to bite at Nicolò’s exposed Adam's apple.

“And spill my seed, hot and sticky, between your thighs?” Yusuf whispered as he repositioned his cock and Nicolò pressed his legs together, “forcing you to think about me as it slowly dries for the rest of the night? Surely you wouldn’t want that.”

“Yes,” Nicolò breathed out, like a prayer.

Yusuf slid forward into the space just below his love’s dick and felt like the air was being forced from his lungs. When he was buried completely between Nicolò’s thighs he braced his elbows on either side of his intended’s head, forearms pressed to the smooth stone wall. They were so close their noses were touching. Yusuf leaned his forehead against Nicolò’s.

Nicolò looked back at him with his piercing eyes, as he slowly moved out and back into the tight space. Both men were already breathing heavily. Yusuf began to pick up the pace and Nicolò moved his hand to grab himself between their stomachs and began stroking in time with Yusuf’s movements.

“I can’t wait until everyone knows you’re mine,” Yusuf gasped out. “As soon as you are able to return I want to announce our engagement.”

Nicolò closed his eyes with a sigh and smiled. When he opened his eyes he cupped the back of Yusuf’s neck with his free hand and pulled him into a desperate kiss, one that only made the heat in Yusuf’s gut burn hotter.

“And then, my handsome knight, we will be married and never need to be parted again.”

“How can you- ah- how can you talk r-right now?” Nicolò gritted out. Yusuf could tell he was getting close.

“I have been called long winded on more than one occasion,” Yusuf managed to get out without stuttering himself. In truth, he was moments away from losing it too.

Yusuf sped up, his thrusts growing frantic. Nicolò began to gasp with each thrust and matched stroke of his hand.

Yusuf gasped and crushed their mouths together as he came between Nicolò’s thighs. He thrust two more times before adding his hand to Nicolò’s where he was still rapidly stroking his dick. He came almost as soon as Yusuf added his hand, with a loud shout. Yusuf huffed out a low laugh and placed a hand over his love’s mouth to muffle the sound.

They rode out their orgasms together, and once they had both finished they stood breathing in each other's air for a minute or so. Nicolò was the first to breathe out a small laugh, but Yusuf followed quickly and soon they were both giggling and attempting to clean themselves up enough to be at least semi presentable.

“They will take one look at you and know what we were doing out here,” Nicolò said, still trying to catch his breath from laughing.

“Me?” Yusuf shot back, “you should see yourself.”

“Do I look well fucked?”

“Very.”

Yusuf kissed Nicolò again, and a minute later he was pulling back from it, breathing heavily.

“We should get back to the ball before we spend the whole night out here.” He raked his fingers through Nicolò’s hair in an attempt to make him look semi presentable.

“You can do what you want to my hair, I am confident you look more disheveled than I do,” Nicolò gestured at Yusuf’s stomach where a wet patch of Nicolò’s hastily cleaned off cum was still extremely obvious.

“Yes, well-” Yusuf started, standing back and attempting to smooth out his clothing, “I did say I wanted it to be clear that we are together.”

Nicolò chuckled and let Yusuf lead him back into the ball.

\---

Nicolò still had to go back home and wrap up his life there. They also didn’t want to dishonor Nile, as it had not even been a year since her engagement with Yusuf had been dissolved.

So in the end they decided not to announce their engagement during Nicolò’s trip. He would return to Genova for a few months and then, when things had calmed down a bit following Yusuf’s coronation, they would announce the news.

They even planned to marry exactly a year after Yusuf’s coronation, the day before the eleventh anniversary of their first kiss, thus just missing Yusuf’s silly time limit of ten years.

Nicolò pointed out that technically they had already missed it, but Yusuf insisted that as long as they were still within the year, then it counted.

Two days after Yusuf’s coronation he said goodbye to his fiancé in the courtyard of the palace for what he hoped would be the last time. He had no way of knowing how true that statement would turn out to be.

He should have demanded Nicolò stay. Should have forbidden him to leave, political consequences be damned. Nile would be fine, and surely would not begrudge them announcing their engagement so soon. He was a king, who would deny him? But he didn’t stop Nicolò, he just watched him leave, naïve in his sureness that Nicolò would be back in his arms again before too long. What a foolish man he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😬


	18. 1446-1448

August 12th 1446

My prince,

I shouldn’t have left you.

I returned home and my father had already received orders for us to report to the front.

I’m not scared as I was before. I just don't want to leave you. Not when we are so close to getting what we want.

I almost wish I had insisted on staying with you, and that we had announced our engagement at the coronation. If we were already engaged then perhaps you could stop this. 

No. Even if you could, though. I cannot abandon my soldiers. I cannot abandon my duties and the oaths I have sworn.

We do not know exactly when we shall leave, but I know it will be soon. Please write to me as soon as you receive this. I will write you another letter before I leave regardless, but I should like to have a final letter to take with me.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ August 19th 1446 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ You cannot leave. You can’t. I won’t allow it. _

_ I do not care if we did not officially announce our engagement. We are engaged. I have intended to marry you for over a decade now, no announcement or lack thereof makes that any less true. _

_ Come back to Tunis. I am a king, surely no one would dare say a word against our union. I will speak with however I need to in order to stop this from happening. _

_ Get on a ship as soon as you receive this. Or if you cannot get away, send word and I will have people come fetch you and bring you home to me. _

_ Just don’t leave. Please. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your king, Yusuf _

**\---**

August 25th 1446

Yusuf, my prince, my love,

I know you are scared.

May I remind you that you have told me not to call you my king, and I further ask that you remember that you are not my king regardless of what I call you, or what you sign your letters as. You cannot order me to do a thing. I have no loyalty to you beyond what I give willingly.

I will not abandon my duty. I could never live with myself if I ran away. Would you have a fugitive and deserter as your consort? I know that you would say yes, yes of course you would, but you and I both know the problems that would cause for both of us.

I know you will not have enough time to respond to this before I leave, so please know that I take your previous letter with me, knowing that your demands were made out of fear and love.

I promise I’ll return to you. I promise that I will marry you. You never need to doubt that. One last trial, my love, one last separation and then I’m yours. Wholly and completely for the rest of my life.

I know that you might be upset with me for choosing to fulfill my duty to king and country, but know that I do it simply to uphold my honor and remain worthy of you.

After all, how can I claim this title that you have been so fond of even when I was still a squire, if I run from this fight?

Your knight,

Sir Nicolò di Genova

I will return to you. I promise you, Yusuf, please do not fear for me. I love you.

**\---**

_ August 5th 1447 _

_ Nicolò, my knight, _

_ A year has passed and that time has done nothing to dull the anger I feel at you having left me. I am so mad at you! _

_ Do you know that you have now officially made a liar of me? I told you ten years and now that is a lie. As of five days ago we have been together for eleven years, and yet we remain unwed. _

_ Hot though my anger burns I know that it is born of fear and longing… I wish you were back so I could yell at you in person. Mostly I wish you were here so I could throw myself at your feet and beg you to stay. _

_ In the end, though, I can’t remain upset with you. My anger is nothing. I miss you, I pray every day to receive a letter from you. _

_ I know you will not receive this until you are home but please write to me. Please. I die anew every day I go without word from you. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

September 17th 1447

My prince,

First I fear I must apologize for how long it has taken me to find the time and paper to write to you. In truth I have also been scared to write. Knowing that I could say the wrong thing and cause you pain or anger and not be able to fix it has been hard to get my head around.

I must admit I do not know what to say. I am nervous with the way we left things. With the way I left things. I know you may be upset with me still, but I also know that we’ve been through too much now for this to break us.

I love you, even if you don’t believe me after what I did.

Have you written me letters? I hope you have. I hope my foolish sense of duty hasn’t pushed you away.

I love you still, I love you so much.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ December 9th 1447 _

_ My knight, _

_ I am still upset but I also know that I can only hang onto these feelings for so long. _

_ All I really want is for you to come home. _

_ I do not know what else I can even say. I miss you, I love you, I wish you hadn’t left and that you were here. I wish I hadn’t spent my last words to you demanding you return to me instead of professing my unending and undying love for you. _

_ I pray you are safe, all of my prayers are for your safety, I can think of little else. Please return to me. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Your prince, Yusuf _

**\---**

January 16th 1448

My prince,

Today is your birthday! I’m afraid I do not have a gift to send, but I did attempt to draw a mouse in the corner of this letter (yes that is what those terrible scribbles are supposed to be). I hope you enjoyed your birthday. Perhaps I will be able to celebrate the next one with you.

I miss you so much. I think we may be reaching a breaking moment soon. I don’t see my men being able to keep this up much longer, which hopefully means we will return home soon.

I do not remember the last time I got a full night’s rest. I have slept in ditches and leaned up against trees. I have slept in the saddle of my horse and standing waiting for battle to commence.

We are also down to half rations. So yes, I do not see us lasting much longer out here.

I dream of you most nights, but on the rare nights I don’t dream of you I dream of your large comfortable bed. I think I miss sleeping in a bed almost as much as I miss you. Try not to be jealous.

Soon, my love. I will return to you soon.

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

March 25th 1448

His Majesty, King Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad Al-Kaysani,

My son, Sir Nicolò di Genova fell in battle on February 17th 1448. I know he would have wanted you to know.

I wish I could give you more information but I did not see him fall. We lost many men in that battle and have been in retreat for over a month since that day.

With my sincerest condolences,

Sir Marco di Genova

**\---**

_ August 1st 1448 _

_ Nicolò, _

_ Sébastien and Nile have been growing closer since you left. _

_ I have just received word that they will be married in the fall. _

_ I hate them for it. _

_ They are happy and in love, and I will never see you again. _

_ You promised you would come back to me. Why didn’t you? _

_ You once told me I could have both my sadness and my anger. _

_ Well I certainly hold both now. I am so angry with you. You didn’t have to leave, I was ready to marry you. You would be alive and with me if not for your damn sense of duty and loyalty and pride! _

_ Fuck. _

_ Even now though, as I rage against a dead man who will never read these words… I love you. God help me, I love you. _

_ I dream of you constantly. I dream of waking up with you in my bed. I dream that this has all been a terrible nightmare. I wake up and you are still gone. The nightmare continues. _

_ Still, it’s like my soul refuses to believe you are gone. _

_ If you watch over me I hope you know… I love you, I’ll never love another. _

_ That hasn’t changed. It won’t. Ever. You were it for me, the only one. _

_ I will never love anyone but you, not if I live for the rest of time. _

_ Your prince, _

_ Yusuf _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm REALLY sorry....
> 
> (Just reread those tags and know that I am not joking about the ending <3)


	19. A New Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey this chapter is ROUGH. It touches mainly on grief, depression and panic attacks. There are also tiny hints of disordered eating and suicidal ideation, but they are both only mentioned briefly.

Paris had changed very little since Yusuf’s last visit.

There was a twisted kind of symmetry in him being the one mourning a lost love this time and not Sébastien.

Sébastien and Nile greeted him in the same courtyard where Nicolò said he had seen him for the first time. He wished -not for the first time in the half a year since Nicolò’s death- that he had done something differently, that he had somehow noticed Nicolò as he walked through the courtyard with Sébastien. He wished he’d had the forethought- or the luck- to look over and see his love, if only a few hours earlier than he did. He wished he had more memories with him, he wished he could make new ones.

Nile and Sébastien asked how he was, gave him pitying looks, steered conversations away from topics that might have related to Nicolò. Yusuf could only smile and nod and assure them that he was alright.

_ “It is difficult but I am managing.” _

_ “I miss him, but it gets easier with time.” _

_ “I’m fine.” _

He could only lie.

In truth he was all but dead. He woke in the morning, did his duty as king and collapsed into his too-big bed at the end of it. He did nothing else. He had a responsibility to his kingdom, but beyond that he could do nothing, not even sleep properly.

He would wake in the night and reach for Nicolò, something he never did before. They had been able to sleep in the same bed so infrequently that his body did not think to miss the absence of a person that was so rarely there. After Nicolò’s passing though, his entire being seemed to revolt against the idea of Nicolò no longer being in the world.

He could hardly eat, tossed and turned through the night. He cried often and spent any free time he did have sitting beneath his olive tree staring at the wall he had fucked Nicolò against on the night of his coronation.

There had been a time, years ago, when Yusuf had thought Nicolò meant to put him aside forever, after he had been forced to enter a marriage contract with Nile. Things had been hard for him in the months when Nicolò refused to write to him. He had started to lose weight the longer he went without news. This was worse. This was so much worse.

When the invitation to Sébastien and Nile’s wedding came he was practically forced to go. As much as he loved his two closest friends he could not find it in him to be happy for them, he only felt despair. Between his mother and advisors' insistence, though, he relented and went. He suspected they hoped taking a trip would help clear his head. He hoped so too. He knew it wouldn’t, though. There was no escaping the crushing weight of his grief. He would carry it for the rest of his life. Even if he got better at hiding it, he knew it would never leave him.

The wedding itself was another exercise in memories colliding with the present.

Yusuf was standing in nearly the exact spot he had stood during Sébastien and Nicolette’s wedding. Nile looked enchanting and Sébastien looked absolutely in love with her, though Yusuf could not bring himself to focus on the joy of seeing his oldest friend find love again. All he could do was stand rooted on the spot, helpless in the rush of memories he was being assaulted with.

He remembered desperately searching the crowd for Nicolò until he finally caught sight of him standing in the gallery. Despite himself, Yusuf glanced back at the same spot to find it occupied by a young woman.

The priest began blessing Sébastien and Nile’s union, signaling that the ceremony was almost over. Yusuf tore his eyes away from the young woman and tried in vain to blink back tears. He looked up to the ceiling as visions of pale blue-green eyes staring back at him danced in his mind.

Yusuf let out a pained gasp. He saw a few people turn toward him, startled, but he didn’t have it in him to care. The sound of his heartbeat in his ears was muffling all other noise, including Sébastien and Nile being announced. 

This was too much, he shouldn’t have come. This place held too many memories for him and watching his friends marry, no matter how much he loved them, was too much for him to bear.

Another gasp erupted from his chest, a sob really. His vision began to go fuzzy around the edges and his breath caught in his chest. He desperately gulped air, but it didn’t seem to be enough to sustain him. No matter how hard he tried to breathe he couldn’t catch his breath.

Finally, he had one thought that drowned out everything else.

_ I can’t be here. _

Yusuf practically ran from the hall.

It was nearing dusk as Yusuf exited the palace. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, not caring about drawing attention to himself.

He took the same path he had been pulled down by Nicolò that sunny morning twelve years prior and ran into the labyrinth. He was so focused on getting away from the wedding that he hadn’t thought of where his feet were carrying him when he careened around a corner and stopped dead in his tracks. He froze, unable to make his mind come up with anything to do but stare at the space in front of him.

It had been years since he was in this garden with Nicolò, but he remembered it like it was yesterday. The feeling of lips crashing into his own and branches poking him in the back as he tried not to fall into the shrubbery. The way Nicolò moaned and shivered at every little touch. He remembered it all, and he couldn’t make it stop. He couldn’t make it not hurt.

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. His legs felt shaky and his lungs were still struggling to fill with air. He felt tears on his cheeks and running down his chin and neck, not having the strength to wipe them away.

It was too much- this was all too much. He couldn’t do it anymore, how was he supposed to keep living like this? Everything hurt. 

He screamed, it tore out of him loud and raw. He felt his voice give out as he sank to his knees and dropped his head to the dirt. The scream turned into sobbing and Yusuf threaded his hands through his hair.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this,” he choked out.

The sky grew dark and he continued to sob into the dirt until he could hardly see the lush walls of the labyrinth around him. Eventually he rolled onto his back and stared up at the sky. It was a cloudy night, but every so often the clouds would part and Yusuf could see a few twinkling stars before they were obscured once more.

\---

Yusuf didn’t remember drifting off to sleep. It seemed to him that one moment he was staring up at the moonless night with tears silently streaming down his face and the next he felt a warm hand on his forehead.

“Yusuf?”

He jerked awake and sat up. It was still dark out, but he was no longer alone. Nile was crouched down next to him, still wearing the dress she was married in. 

“Nile? What are you do-doing here?” Yusuf stuttered out, his breathing still irregular after crying for so long.

“Looking for you,” another familiar voice said.

Yusuf peered around Nile to see Sébastien standing behind her.

“But you- your wedding. You shouldn’t be out here,” Yusuf said, shaking his head. He felt another sob bubble up in his chest as he remembered why he was sitting in the dirt in the middle of the night. He pulled his knees close to his chest and propped his elbows on them. He closed his eyes and hung his head forward, trying to keep himself from losing it once more.

“It’s fine, Yusuf. I’ve already been married once before, weddings are overrated anyway,” Sébastien said and Nile smacked him on the shin.

Yusuf let out something between a sob and a laugh. He looked up at Sébastien to find him offering a hand to pull Yusuf up.

“You don’t need to deal with this on your own,” Nile said, once they were both standing once more.

“I appreciate that, and I know you mean to offer a shoulder to cry on,” Yusuf said. His breath came out as another stifled sob, “but I don’t think you can help me.”

“I know this is hard, probably better than most people,” Sébastien whispered.

Yusuf looked back at his friend standing in the darkness with his beautiful new bride. He remembered what it had been like after Nicolette died, how hard it had been for Sébastien to do much of anything. He knew he wasn’t faring much better. Still a small selfish part of him wanted to scream that he did not know what Yusuf was going through.

He knew it was unfair to think that way, and he hoped that in time he could temper the rage and sorrow that consumed him, but he knew it wouldn’t be that night.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” Yusuf said.

“Alright,” Nile started; there was an unsureness to her voice that Yusuf had never heard before.

Yusuf didn’t wait for her to finish her thought. He congratulated his friends once more on their marriage which they graciously and cautiously accepted. He gave them a small, forced smile, and then walked off into the dark toward the castle.

He would leave for home the next morning, back to Tunis and his too-big bed, which felt even larger without Nicolò to help fill it.

He felt utterly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise things start to get better next chapter...


	20. Trudging Part 1 - Bide

_ To Trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on. _

\---

_ Twenty-six steps. _

It is twenty six steps from the door of his cell to the exit. Then he needs to take a left, run to the end of the hallway and take the last door on the right. The gate he was brought through is approximately sixty paces from the building.

_ Twenty-six steps. _

_ Left. _

_ Right. _

_ Sixty paces. _

_ Twenty-six steps. _

\---

_ It has been five hundred and thirty-one days since Nicolò left his cell. _

_ It has been five hundred and thirty-one days since Nicolò saw the sky. _

_ It has been five hundred and thirty-one days since Nicolò was a free man. _

Nicolò rolled over onto his side, stifling a groan. He was confident he would never get used to sleeping without at least a bedroll. He pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned against the wall of his cell. He stilled and strained to listen and sure enough he heard the reliable jingle of keys that meant the arrival of their morning meal- if you could call it a meal.

Nicolò repeated his numbers and directions, mumbling them under his breath. Twenty-six, left, right, sixty, and the ever climbing five hundred and thirty-one.

He could hear the other prisoners in their respective cells going about their own routines. He heard prayers that sounded like the ones he had heard Yusuf recite on days when he had been lucky enough to wake up next to him. He heard prayers he didn’t recognize. He heard words that weren’t prayers too.

The jingling keys made it to their room of cells and Nicolò placed his wooden bowl by the door of his cell. The torchlight hurt his eyes as the guard made their way from cell to cell spooning the slop into each presented bowl. Nicolò mumbled his thanks in the local dialect like the woman in the cell next to his had taught him when his bowl was filled. As always, the guard said nothing to any of them.

He heard the clatter of wood on stone and his neighbor let out a frustrated groan. Nicolò chuckled at her misfortune, she would have to try and salvage what food she could from the ground. She obviously heard him, for she swore harshly in her own tongue. He wasn’t exactly sure what she called him, but he caught the word  _ ass  _ and that was enough for Nicolò to fill in the blanks.

The jailer, with his bowl of slop and jangling keys, left through the door he had entered and his neighbor stopped her muttering to sit by the front of her cell. Nicolò sat at the front of his. He imagined that they were sitting back to back and that the thin wall that kept them from seeing each other was gone. He imagined feeling her back against his and tried not to focus on the body he actually wanted to feel pressed against him. That hurt too much to dwell on.

“We are ready,” she said, using his tongue, which she only did when she wanted to be sure he understood her.

Nicolò shook his head, drawing himself out of his thoughts.

“ _ Ban, _ ” he said, using the word she had taught him for friend, “we could delay another week or month. It wouldn’t hurt to have more rope-”

“No,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding, “every day you grow weaker, and every day we are more and more in danger of being found out.”

Nicolò sighed. Why had he decided to trust this woman? A woman whose face he had never seen. Only glimpses of slender fingers when she passed strips of cloth braided into rope to him from around the wall that separated their cells.

He knew why. She was the only person in this hole who seemed to still have hope like he did. Hope that they could make it out of there. She was also the only person who talked to him. Neither the jailer or the other prisoners acknowledged him. Whether it was because they did not understand him or chose not to, he wasn’t sure.

He had been full of righteous anger back then. He had the naïve hope that he would be released quickly. 

“Cease your wailing,” her voice had cut through his shouts and demands for answers on his third morning in his cell.

“You- you know my words?” Nicolò asked, taken aback.

“You repeat the same thing over and over, anyone could figure it out eventually,” She did not speak to him again for weeks. Though he talked to her often.

“What is your name?” She asked him after over a month had passed.

“Nicolò al-Kaysani,” he had said to her, not sure why he made the decision right then to give himself Yusuf’s name.

“Your name is discordant,” she replied flatly without giving hers in return.

It took some time for Nicolò to understand what she meant, but he never explained to her why the name he gave was of two different cultures.

Slowly she spoke more to him, and over time she even started to teach him her words. She had a gift for language that Nicolò did not, though he tried.

Nicolò learned that she was thrown in jail some months before Nicolò for inciting a rebellion. Everyone else within earshot of his cell had been there longer than her, not that they ever spoke to either of them.

Eleven months into his imprisonment they began to entertain the idea of an escape. It formed slowly, but between Nicolò’s head for numbers and details and her drive to keep them on track they made progress every day.

Now, after over eighteen months in prison and nearly seven since they had first begun planning she was pushing him to act. He was terrified.

“Did you hear me,  _ kẻ xâm lược? _ ”  _ Invader?  _ Which was what she called him more often than not, “I said, every day we are more and more in danger of being found out.”

“I heard you.”

Nicolò tapped his fingers on the bars of his cell absentmindedly. He thought of everything they had ahead of them, even if they escaped the prison. He had months of travel ahead of him, and he was malnourished and exhausted but she was right, it wasn’t going to get any easier.

“Where will you go?” He asked finally.

“Away.”

“And after you are away?”

She did not answer, instead busying herself with eating what slop she could salvage from the ground.

“Tomorrow morning,” she said finally.

“Alright,” Nicolò agreed, and he set to reciting his numbers again.

They spent the rest of the day talking in hushed tones and going over every possible way they could think of for things to go wrong. They quieted when the jailer returned and gave them their evening  _ meal  _ and she passed him one last piece of rope made from what he assumed was a piece of her clothing.

“We may die tomorrow,” Nicolò said as he was drifting off to sleep, “can I know your name?”

“I will tell you when we are free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catch that A Kinght's Tale quote?


	21. Trudging Part 2 - Escape

“Go on,” Nicolò heard himself say, but he sounded far away from himself, like he was underwater. Yusuf was looking up at him with a look of pure heat. 

Nicolò felt a finger circle his most intimate place. He wanted to continue looking at Yusuf in wonder. He wanted to lose himself to the feeling of his prince touching him. Something was itchy at the back of his mind though.

How was he here? This didn’t make any sense. He was in prison, and had been for over a year. Did his love rescue him? Or was Yusuf somehow captured as well? He wanted to ask all of that and more, but instead his head tilted back involuntarily with a moan. He felt Yusuf’s lips on his exposed throat. God, he missed this.

He felt Yusuf’s finger breach him and he let out a pained moan. Why was he in pain? This was all he wanted in the world.

“Are you alright?” Yusuf asked. He froze and gazed up at Nicolò with worry in his eyes.

What a complicated question. How could he be alright when he wasn’t with Yusuf? He wasn’t. He knew he wasn’t. All he wanted was to forget the fact that he wasn’t actually straddling the love of his life, but instead he was ripped from the memory.

\---

Nicolò gasped as he woke up, tears already streaming down his face. He reached behind himself expecting Yusuf to be there but was met with the cold hard wall of his cell.

It only took a few seconds for Nicolò to remember that he was not back at the cottage in Genova, about to couple with Yusuf. Those seconds were blissful but they made his reality all the more bleak when it came rushing back.

He felt his chest tighten and a sob escape from his throat as he still struggled to come back to the present.

“Nicolò?” came the voice of his neighbor.

He placed his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut, trying to steady himself. He could hear her calling for him, asking if he was alright. He could also hear the jangling of keys in the distance, he didn’t have time for this.

_ Twenty-six steps,  _ his mind supplied in amongst the overwhelming noise of panic.

“Twenty-six,” he repeated again, out loud this time.

“Nicolò?” She hissed again, more desperate this time.

“Left,” Nicolò said, ignoring her.

The jangling keys were drawing ever closer to from down the hall outside the room of cells they were kept in. He didn’t have time to fall to pieces. With shaking hands he grabbed the prepared rope and began putting it in place.

“Right.”

He slid his empty wooden bowl to the edge of his cell and then pulled it back just far enough to cause the jailer to have to reach between the bars, but not far enough to be suspicious- they hoped.

“Sixty paces.”

He sat back and grabbed the end of the rope, hiding as much of it with his body as he could. All he had left to do was wait.

_ Five hundred and thirty-two days since he had left his cell. _

The jailer and their jangling keys entered the room. 

_ Five hundred and thirty-two days since he had seen the sky. _

They made their way from cell to cell along his row, spooning slop into waiting bowls.

_ Five hundred and thirty-two days since he was a free man. _

The jailer reached their hand through the bars of his cell, through the waiting loop of rope, hidden by the bars themselves.

_ There would not be a five hundred and thirty-third.  _

Nicolò pulled the end of the rope in his hand. The poacher’s knot slipped down the rope quickly as the loop tightened around the jailers arm. Nicolò was already to the bars and shoving the fabric knot of a gag into the jailer’s mouth as they cried out in surprise.

They tried to yank their arm back from him, but Nicolò twisted the arm in his hand up and around to force the back of the jailer up against the bars of his cells. He worked as quickly as he could securing the arm to the jail cell while avoiding the wild grabs of the still free arm. There was a brief scuffle but he eventually had both of the jailers arms tied to the bars behind their back and a gag firmly tied behind their head.

He reached along the waist of the jailer and found the keys, hanging where they always did. He took them and moved to the cell door. For one brief minute he worried that the jailer didn’t carry the key to his cell but then he found one that slid in and heard the click as he turned it and the door to his cell swung outward.

He moved quickly to his neighbor’s cell and unlocked it. He was so focused on his task, his vision almost blurring at the edges that he didn’t register that he could see his friend’s face for the first time until she was already out and working on moving the jailer into Nicolò’s cell.

She had long black hair and piercing eyes, ones she leveled at him with an expectant glare when he stood there not helping. He shook his head and followed her lead. Together they wrangled the still bound and gagged jailer into his cell and locked the door. She took the ring of keys from Nicolò and handed it to one of the prisoners who had come to the edge of their cell to watch the commotion unfold. She didn’t wait to see what the prisoner would do and neither did Nicolò. They didn’t have time.

He moved toward the door, counting off the steps in his head -exactly twenty-six- and peaked out into the hall. 

He glanced right first, checking their rear, before looking left toward their escape. The hallway was empty. He cautiously stepped out into it, his friend at his heels. When nothing immediately jumped out at them or barred their path he took off down the hall, taking care to move as quickly and quietly as he could.

His legs felt strange, though he supposed after a year and a half of being able to use them for little else but pace his cell, that was not surprising.

They reached the end of the hall -the last door on the right- and sure enough peering into it and through the room beyond he would see light- daylight. Honest and true daylight.

They crept through the room. There had been many guards in here when Nicolò had been brought through on his way in. This time it was empty.

“Sixty paces,” Nicolò said under his breath.

“What?”

“It is sixty paces to the wall.”

His friend hummed in acknowledgement and tapped something against his hand. He looked down to find a shortsword being pressed into his palm, she had one too.

“You are a swordsman, yes?” She asked, testing the weight of her own sword.

Nicolò gripped the hilt tightly. He would have preferred a longsword but he supposed beggars could not be choosers. He was happy she had found any weapons in the room at all- it had been a hopeful guess in their plan.

“I was.”

“You are once more,” she said firmly. 

Nicolò glanced at her and tested the reach and feel of the sword with two short swings.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Sixty paces,” he replied.

She nodded. “Sixty paces.”

They stepped out into the courtyard and had hardly taken three steps when they heard shouts from across the courtyard.

His companion did not wait for him and took off at a sprint toward the gate that was their only known escape. Nicolò followed quickly, keeping track of the guards rushing toward the gate which was slightly ajar.

There were three people closing in on their path ahead. Two from one side, one from the other. When they reached the gate they stood ready to engage the two escaped prisoners.

Nicolò was about to call for his friend to wait when she took her sword and expertly knocked the sword of one of the waiting guards out of the way and slashed across his front, practically gutting him.

The remaining two guards did not underestimate her, both raising their weapons to strike at his companion but Nicolò was able to slide between her and one of the falling blades, holding up his own to block it with a loud clang.

He planted a kick squarely in the guard’s chest before the wide eyed young man could react. The soldier hit the ground stunned and gasping. Nicolò guessed he had broken a few of their ribs.

He heard a body crumple to the ground and turned around expecting his friend to be wounded or dead but instead the guard beyond her was clutching a bloodied hand to his side and trying to scoot away from her.

“No time to rest,” she said and took off out the gate.

Nicolò followed her, feeling slightly stunned at her skill with a blade when every conversation about their escape had centered around Nicolò fighting their way out.

They ran for the treeline, just as they reached it Nicolò heard bells begin to ring out, but they kept moving.

They did not stop moving until nightfall.

Nicolò’s chest burned and constricted painfully as he collapsed onto the ground when they reached the crest of a hill. He rolled onto his back. It was a clear night and the sky was full of stars and constellations that he still remembered the names of.

“Quỳnh,” his friend said.

Nicolò made a  _ hmm  _ noise in response, not quite sure what she meant. He was too busy trying to catch his breath. His lungs burned with every new gulp of air.

“My name,” she said slowly, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. The wind blew through her long black hair and she smiled. “My name is Quỳnh.”


	22. Trudging Part 3 - Journey

They walked west, only stopping to sleep just long and often enough so as not to collapse from exhaustion.

His friend -Quỳnh, her name was Quỳnh- knew the local flora better than he did and was able to forage some fruit as they moved through the wilderness. Nicolò set snares up each night with the extra rope they brought with them, and on their third morning they finally had a rabbit to split between the two of them.

A week into their journey Nicolò finally asked Quỳnh where she planned to go. She shook her head and only said that she could not return home.

“Home is the only place I want to be,” Nicolò replied, “you’re welcome to join me on my journey for as long as you want.”

“Is that not what I am already doing?”

Nicolò wasn’t sure why he expected Quỳnh to open up to him now that they were no longer captive. She continued to be just as cryptic and guarded as she had been while they were in prison. Nicolò didn’t mind all that much, he was quiet by nature. He did think that he would learn  _ something  _ about his traveling companion as time went on but the days turned into weeks and he still knew almost nothing about her. He didn’t push, though, her secrets were her own.

When they were still in prison he hadn’t told Quỳnh about Yusuf. He’d tried his best not to focus too much on him either. It didn’t feel right to bring Yusuf into that place, but now that he was free and well on his way to returning to his love he finally began to let slip little details here and there.

_ “What is that spice you’re using? It reminds me of Tunisian food.”  _

_ “At least you know how to build a proper fire, Yusuf is useless at building fires.” _

_ “I miss sleeping in a bed. Yusuf has the largest bed. I made fun of it before, I won’t anymore.” _

In each town they came across, Nicolò entertained the idea of writing to Yusuf. He usually thought better of it. It would be expensive to send a letter so far, and they had no money to spare.

Quỳnh was also quick to remind him that they were moving at a breakneck pace and would likely arrive before any letter they sent. She also informed him that they would probably die on their journey, and it was best not to get Yusuf’s hopes up before they were reunited. Nicolò worried about her sometimes, though he had no good argument for her.

They were lucky that summer was fading into autumn as they traveled over the arid deserts and sparse farmland. In the heat of summer they might have had to stick more to the coast but as it was they could cross the land quite comfortably. Monsoon season was on its way out, but it still rained often enough that the rivers and creeks were full of water. It was a peaceful time in their trek and they often went days without happening upon another soul.

The journey from where they had been imprisoned to their first sight of the Mediterranean took exactly 168 days, by Nicolò’s count. It took two days to barter for passage aboard a ship bound for Tunis, and on day 170 of freedom they started the last leg of their journey.

Quỳnh seemed to relax once they were on the ship, almost like she had suspected that at any moment they might have been captured and taken back to the prison. He saw her smile for the first time on their third day traveling over the waves. She saw him smile for the first time on the fourth day.

Part of their passage to Tunis was paid for with the promise of work. Every day they cleaned the deck, coiled rope, peeled potatoes or whatever else the Boatswain needed from them that day. Every night Nicolò slowly let himself give in to the hope that he was going to see Yusuf soon.

Nicolò wasn’t even sure what Yusuf knew. Did he know Nicolò had been captured or did he think he was dead?

Nicolò tried to imagine what Yusuf had been doing for the over three years since he had seen him or heard from him in any way and he couldn’t. Whether he thought Nicolò was captured or dead, Yusuf must have been sure he would never see Nicolò again. Would he have moved on? Nicolò tried not to think too hard about the possibility that Yusuf wasn’t waiting for him but he also wanted to be prepared.

The trip across the sea took a month. Near the end they stopped off at the isle of Malta for three days. Nicolò tried not to feel restless and impatient. He had waited this long, he could wait a few more days.

The city they docked in was lovely. Mostly to keep himself from going mad while waiting for the ship to be ready to move on he ventured out into it.

It was a bustling trade city and every street was crowded. In a lot of ways it reminded him of Genova. He made his way up and down the packed streets, taking in the various vendors.

He passed a stall and heard the man there speaking in his mother tongue. Sure enough when he looked over he saw crates of fresh fruit on display, including a large amount of oranges.

Nicolò didn’t have a lot of money, but he and Quỳnh had managed to save up a small amount of coin working odd jobs as they worked their way across the continent. He purchased three oranges, pocketed two and peeled one as he walked.

It wasn’t until he was popping the first piece into his mouth that he realized how long it had been since he had tasted an orange. The taste brought back so many memories of his childhood and early teen years climbing trees and eating oranges while lounging in the branches. It also brought back a number of memories that involved Yusuf.

Nicolò looked up and out toward the edge of the island, toward the sea and thought about how much had changed for them over the years, but not the way he felt about his prince. Not the way his heart hammered away in his chest like a panicked hare every time Yusuf looked at him with eyes full of love. Nor the way he longed to hear his voice and feel his arms wrapped around him again. That never changed. Not when they had been parted for mere hours, not when it had been over three years.

_ I should come back here with Yusuf. _

Standing in the middle of a narrow street, looking at the sliver of ocean he could see at the far end, was the first time he actually allowed himself to believe he might not only see Yusuf again but that he would finally, truly, permanently get to be with him.

By the time he left he had a long list of places he liked and wanted to show Yusuf when they came back together.

Quỳnh found him on the deck of the ship. He was leaning forward on the railing, watching as Malta shrank slowly into the distance.

“Two days,” she said.

“I know,” Nicolò replied.

“Are you excited or nervous? You are impossible to read.”

Nicolò thought about the knot in his gut and how he had only just started to get to the point where he felt like he didn’t get tongue tied around Yusuf when he had left. He had no idea how he was going to announce himself. Did he walk up to a guard at the front gate and ask to speak to the king? Surely he would be laughed out of the country. Should he try and sneak into Yusuf’s room? He wasn’t sure of anything once he got off this boat, let alone how he was feeling.

“Both,” Nicolò decided on.

“Well, are you at least ready?” Quỳnh asked. After a long time passed she added, “it’s been a long time.”

“It has,” Nicolò said quietly.

He looked down at his arms where they were propped up on the railing of the ship. He was just starting to look like himself again, slowly gaining back the muscle and fat he had lost in prison. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in years, he wondered if Yusuf would even recognise him.

He rhythmically tapped his fingers on the smooth wood of the ship’s railing. He knew Yusuf would recognize him, just as he knew he would recognize Yusuf. Even if a thousand years passed, they would still know each other instantly.

“Nicolò?” Quỳnh’s voice cut through his thoughts. 

He made a  _ hmm _ noise, coming back to his thoughts.

“Are you ready?” Quỳnh repeated.

Nicolò smiled to himself, he knew the answer, without a doubt.

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malta really wasn’t very densely populated in the 1400’s, but like I said at the beginning of the fic, I am playing fast and loose with historical accuracy here soooo
> 
> *Kiki/Nile voice* My Malta does (have a large bustling trade city on it in the year 1450…)


	23. To Love Again

It had been two years to the day since Nicolò fell in battle and nearly four since Yusuf had set eyes on the love of his life.

Like most afternoons since then, he found himself sitting under the olive tree and drawing. He didn’t always draw Nicolò -he had become rather good at fruit trees and weaponry- but that day he drew his beloved knight, he needed to.

Some days were worse than others and he was getting better, but that day had been particularly hard.

His mother had insisted on seeing him, which he couldn’t necessarily begrudge her for but she had brought up the idea of marriage. Again.

_ “Even a simple political match, Yusuf. No one is asking you to forget about him.” _

_ “Yes, you are. That is exactly what you are asking me to do and for what? My tastes lean toward men so it would not be for an heir. Besides, I have nieces and nephews to pass the crown to. No. I will not marry, I- I can’t. Please do not ask me again.” _

He didn’t like snapping at his mother, he knew she only wanted to help, but they’d been having the same conversation for two years. He just wanted to be allowed to mourn in his own time. He knew his own time could be decades. He was handling it.

The worst part was that he knew the pleas to move on were only made out of concern for him and his own wellbeing. There was no need for him to marry, he made sure of that. He did his duty as king diligently, it wasn’t the fault of the kingdom -or his people- that he lost everything. He could be there for them, he could at least lead them, but  _ only  _ that. So yes, the only logical reason to want him to wed was to make him forget, and he couldn’t do that.

Slow though his healing may have looked to others, he really was doing better. The nightmares had mostly stopped. He wasn’t standing in the way of his own healing, it was just moving slower than his family and advisors wanted. Sébastien and Nile’s wedding had been a low moment, but a turning point nonetheless.

He would get better- was getting better. He could even see himself getting to a point, one day, where he might even be alright, whatever that might mean. But no matter how far he got, no matter how he handled his grief in the future, he had made a promise, one he intended to keep. He would never love another.

After the conversation with his mother he had made his way out to the olive tree, sat down at the bench and done what he did best when he was done with his work for the day: waste time drawing until he was practically dead on his feet, then stumble up to bed, only to do it all over again the next day.

Nicolò’s face was taking shape on the parchment in Yusuf’s hand. He started with the eyes, he always started with the eyes, they were that part of his love that he felt he had the greatest handle on. He stared down at the drawing in his hands, the eyes staring back at him and was suddenly overcome with regret and heartache.

Typically, drawing by the olive tree was helpful, it calmed him. He should have known that on the anniversary of Nicolò’s death it would only bring him pain. Perhaps it would be better if he just gave himself a little slack and went to bed early. No one would hold it against him, not that day.

He sighed and blinked a few times, trying to hold back his tears. He could cry all he wanted once he was behind closed doors, but he had to make it back to his room first.

“I-”

Yusuf did not react, it was not uncommon for Andromache or some messenger or another to find him in the small courtyard. He was sure it was the first place most people checked when they were looking for him so he did not think anything of the one word.  _ I,  _ such a small word, hardly anything to go on. The next word was unmistakable though, he’d heard it spoken so many times with the voice that drifted to him.

“Yusuf.”

It took him a moment, but when it clicked whose voice he was hearing he looked up from his work.

All the air left Yusuf’s chest. There, standing across the small courtyard next to the doorway that led into the ballroom, was Nicolò.

He was skinny, his hair and beard were both long and unkempt. He looked so different but it was undeniable Nicolò, his Nicolò.

Yusuf stood up from the bench hastily, he heard his charcoals and papers fall to the ground but he didn’t care. He took a tentative step toward Nicolò. This was impossible, even in his wildest dreams he did not imagine Nicolò simply showing up out of the blue.

“Ni-” Yusuf’s voice caught in his chest and he had to swallow before trying again, “Nicolò?”

Nicolò looked up at the sky and laughed, he had tears glistening in his eyes. That one laugh was the most beautiful sound Yusuf had ever heard, his mind could never have hoped to remember anything even close to the real thing. This was real, somehow Nicolò was standing in front of him, leaning against the wall where they had made love for the last time.

“How- how are you here?” Yusuf stuttered out. No matter what his eyes and ears were telling him, he couldn’t forget the two years he had spent waking up from dreams that felt so real only to wake to his lonely reality.

Nicolò shifted his weight slightly, the nervous energy making the man in front of him seem more real by the second. 

“ _ How are you here _ , he asks,” Nicolò said with another nervous laugh.

Nicolò looked down at his hands and kept talking, “the love of his life returned from the dead and he asks,  _ how are you here? _ You cannot begin to imagine what I’ve gone through to get back to you, Yusuf. I’ve dreamed so often of what our reunion would be like-”

Yusuf crashed into Nicolò. He half expected to run into the wall, for there to be no one there, just his mind playing cruel tricks on him again. But he didn’t hit the wall, he collided with the solid warm body of his love.

“You’re really here,” Yusuf said. He cupped Nicolò’s face with his hands still surprised when he felt warm flesh beneath his palms and asked, “am I dreaming?”

Nicolò grabbed one of Yusuf’s hands and turned his head to kiss it. His eyes fluttered closed and with his lips still brushing the palm, he whispered, “If you are, then I am too.”

Yusuf finally let out a small sob, as he let his hands wander over Nicolò’s face and drift down to his chest. Nicolò’s hands didn’t move; he simply stared at Yusuf with his classic wide eyed expression- exactly how Yusuf remembered, and his hands fisted into Yusuf’s sleeves.

“Can I kiss you?” Nicolò asked. Yusuf nodded.

Nicolò took a deep breath and leaned in, pressing his lips to Yusuf’s for the first time in over three years.

\---

Yusuf’s hands were gripped tightly under Nicolò’s ass as he nudged the door to his bedchamber open with his foot. With his arms and legs wrapped around him, Yusuf could feel every one of Nicolò’s muscles tensing against him in an effort to hold himself up. Every touch felt so real, surely this could not be a dream.

“You’re here,” Yusuf said, still not quite believing it, even with the weight of his love in his arms, “you’re alive.”

Nicolò simply hummed where his lips were attached to Yusuf’s neck, already attempting to leave marks for later.

He walked slowly to his bed and instead of setting Nicolò down he let them half fall onto the mattress, Yusuf caught himself just short of putting all his weight onto Nicolò.

The knight crawled backwards, coaxing Yusuf to follow him with teasing touches and kisses.

“I dreamt about this bed,” Nicolò said with a grin.

“I was going to get a smaller one before you returned-” Yusuf tailed off, unsure how to broach the topic of where Nicolò had been for two years.

“I’m glad you didn’t, I slept on only hard floors and dirt since I left you. This bed was almost as big of a draw to return as you were.”

Yusuf breathed out something almost resembling a laugh. The sound surprised him, he couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed.

Nicolò was laying on his back, staring up at Yusuf. He surged up to meet him and dragged Yusuf back down on top of him, kissing him as if- well, as if it had been years.

Yusuf lost himself for a minute. They traded desperate kisses full of breathy gasps and exploring tongues. Nicolò bit lightly at his lip for a moment and Yusuf thought his arousal might burn out of him then and there.

He moaned and let his body settle fully on top of Nicolò’s, for a moment delighting in the feel of him, very much alive. Then his hard cock, though layers of clothing, pressed against Nicolò’s hip and in turn he felt his beloved hard against his own hip. It was not an understatement to say he panicked a bit at how quickly things were moving.

“You must be tired, we don’t have to do anything,” Yusuf rushed to say, sitting back from Nicolò.

Nicolò blinked for a moment, looking dazed. Then he sat up and glanced at Yusuf.

“Do- do you not-” Nicolò took a deep breath, “what do you want?”

What did he want? More than anything he didn’t want to scare Nicolò off. Which he knew was a ridiculous thought as soon as it entered his head. His beloved had traveled who knows how far, certainly hundreds if not thousands of miles to get back to him.

“I just want you to stay. That’s all I want. However I can make that happen- I don’t care.”

“This is the only place I want to be,” Nicolò said.

Yusuf nodded slowly. This time, feeling a bit more prepared he reached out and placed a hand on Nicolò’s thigh. He heard his love’s sharp intake of breath as he moved his hand toward where he had felt his hardness only moments before.

One moment Yusuf was leaning in to kiss Nicolò’s neck and his hand was just reaching its target, and the next both men were hastily and ungracefully unlacing and discarding Nicolò’s pants.

Yusuf settled between Nicolò’s legs and glanced up at him. The scene was very familiar, certainly the nerves he felt were familiar though long forgotten, it sparked memories deep within Yusuf.

“I do not have any oranges this time,” Yusuf said with a smirk.

Nicolò laughed and let his head fall back. “I do.”

“What?” Yusuf said, taken aback.

Nicolò sat up and reached for his discarded clothing, fishing a small pouch out of the pile. He opened the pouch, produced two oranges and held them up with a smile.

“I bought them two days ago,” Nicolò said. He looked almost ashamed- or embarrassed.

“Have plans for these, do you?” Yusuf asked, barely holding back a laugh.

“I hadn’t thought it through, to tell you the truth. I forgot I had them until you mentioned oranges.”

Yusuf nodded, smirking all the while, he took one of the oranges and set it aside, he pointed at the remaining one in Nicolò’s hands and said, “peel that.”

He moved back between Nicolò’s legs and kissed his inner thigh. Nicolò’s breath stuttered, but he set to work peeling the fruit.

Yusuf moved close to Nicolò’s cock, slowly kissing and sucking at the sensitive pale flesh along his way. Nicolò finished peeling the orange right as Yusuf wrapped his hand around the knight’s length. Nicolò gasped quietly. He moaned quite a bit louder though when Yusuf took him into his mouth a moment later.

Yusuf bobbed his head a few times, letting salvia trickle down to where his hand was working in time with his mouth. He pulled off and took in Nicolò, his head thrown back in pleasure, peeled orange clutched tightly in his hand.

“You better eat that before you turn it into juice,” Yusuf said. Something about joking with Nicolò during sex was making him feel a bit more like himself. Teasing him, overwhelming him. This was familiar territory for them.

Nicolò took a piece of the orange and put it in his mouth. Yusuf returned to his mission of bringing Nicolò as much pleasure as he could.

He continued to encourage Nicolò to eat until the entire orange was gone, all the while taking care to keep Nicolò as close to the edge as possible.

“Finished?” he finally asked. Nicolò nodded back at him. “Good.”

He ducked his head down and took Nicolò into his mouth until his cock hit the back of his throat. He was out of practice -having only ever been with Nicolò- and gagged a bit as he breathed through his nose and swallowed, taking him as deep as he could. He swallowed again and moaned. A few seconds passed and he worried he would need to pull back and breathe -maybe Nicolò wasn’t quite as close as he thought he was- but then the knight cried out and spilled down Yusuf’s throat, hot and trembling within him.

Yusuf finally pulled off with another barely stifled gag. Their time apart really had dulled his skills. Nicolò laughed breathlessly above him.

“Was all of that just to get me to eat?”

Yusuf laughed and shook his head. “No, not at all. I simply- I don’t know. I always liked when you would tell me- what to do, I suppose, when we were together. I thought I might like the other way around.”

“And did you?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

Nicolò hummed his approval and pulled Yusuf up to kiss him, the taste of citrus mixed with the taste of Nicolò’s seed still on Yusuf’s tongue.

“I also wanted you to eat, it’s been a long journey- I’m assuming. I figured why not get two things done at once. In addition to that, though,” Yusuf kissed Nicolò again, sliding his tongue into his love’s mouth for a moment before pulling back, “you taste divine.”

They lay together for a long time after that, Yusuf still clothed, Nicolò mostly naked. Yusuf’s mind wandered, trying to make sense of what had happened in such a short amount of time. As he was wont to do, Yusuf’s thoughts turned to self doubt rather quickly.

It had been so long, and as far as Nicolò was concerned the last thing Yusuf had said to him was his letter demanding that he not leave. He did not want to assume anything, even with what they had just done. Even with Nicolò looking back at him like he was something precious. 

Yusuf felt nervous around Nicolò in a way he hadn’t in a decade. He felt a sudden need to know where he stood.

“Marry me, Nicolò?” Yusuf breathed out quickly.

Nicolò huffed out a small laugh and kissed Yusuf’s chest and began to unlace his doublet.

“I thought I already agreed to that,” he said.

“You still want to?” Yusuf asked.

“Of course I do,” Nicolò said.

Yusuf smiled to himself and hugged Nicolò close to his chest.

“Good.”

\---

An hour and an orgasm for Yusuf later, Nicolò’s head was pillowed on Yusuf's chest, his body was pressed to Yusuf’s side, and his hair was between Yusuf’s fingers. It still didn’t feel real. Not two hours ago Yusuf was convinced that Nicolò was dead and yet here he was, alive and warm and lightly running his hand over Yusuf’s stomach.

“Can I ask what happened?” Yusuf finally asked.

“I don’t know where to begin,” Nicolò let out a mirthless laugh, “it might be easier if I knew what you already know.”

“I do not know much. I knew- thought that you fell in battle and that most of the men you fought with were killed. That is all your father told me in his letter-”

“My father?” Nicolò interjected.

“Yes, he’s the only reason I had any idea what happened to you.”

“He’s alive?”

“As far as I know-” Yusuf tilted his head so he could look down into Nicolò’s eyes, “did you come straight here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Nicolò whispered.

Yusuf was already so happy and in love that he would not have thought he could fit anything more inside him, but his heart swelled at Nicolò’s confirmation. He placed a finger under Nicolò’s chin and tilted it up so he could capture his knight’s lips with his own for a brief chaste kiss.

“Well, I’ll admit that I have not written back to your father. I do know that he survived the battle, if that’s what you were worried about.”

Nicolò returned his head to Yusuf’s chest and nodded against it.

“We don’t have to talk about what happened. I don’t care, I’m just glad you’re back in my arms.” Yusuf tightened his grip around Nicolò’s shoulders.

“You thought I was dead,” Nicolò said.

“I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You’re back now, that is all that matters,” Yusuf said quickly. The last thing he wanted was Nicolò feeling guilty for what happened to him.

They lay in silence for a long time before Nicolò spoke again.

“I don’t remember being taken from the battlefield,” he said. He spoke slowly but deliberately, if this was hard to talk about, Nicolò’s voice gave away no indication. “But as far as I know I was the only one. The only reason I can think of as to why I was taken prisoner is because I wore nicer armor than most of the other soldiers. Perhaps that singled me out as a leader, I’m not sure.”

“I was taken to a prison and locked in a cell that I did not leave for five hundred and thirty-two days.”

Yusuf didn’t mean to react but his entire body tensed up at that.

“It’s alright, beloved,” Nicolò assured him, “I’m free now.”

Yusuf nodded but still tightened his hold on Nicolò a little bit more.

“I was lucky enough to be in a cell next to who I think was the only person in the entire prison who spoke my language. At least, she was the only one who cared to speak to me. Her name is Quỳnh, we escaped together. We walked halfway across the world together. She saw me safely back to you.”

Yusuf committed the name Quỳnh to memory and vowed to fall at her feet in adoration and thanks if he ever met her.

“I dreamt of you every night. For a while I imagined word getting back to you about where I was and what had happened to me. I awoke from many a dream confused and thinking you had come to rescue me.”

Nicolò clicked his tongue and shook his head, like that was the most unfathomable thing in the world. More than anything else, that broke Yusuf’s heart. He had no way of knowing, but he should have. He should have known that Nicolò would never leave him, would do anything to get back to him. He promised he would.

Yusuf’s breath stuttered as he tried to find the words to say what he needed to.

“I’m so s-sorry, Nicolò,” Yusuf hiccupped once and he lost control of the tears he’d been holding back since before Nicolò even arrived. “I th- thought you were dead. If I’d had any indication that you were still out there I would have moved heaven and earth to b-bring you home.”

Nicolò pushed himself up on one elbow and looked Yusuf in the eyes, “I know that.”

Yusuf shook his head and closed his eyes as a fresh wave of tears fell from them, “I’m so sorry.”

Nicolò sat up on his knees and pulled Yusuf’s head to rest against his chest. The embrace was tight, and any other time Yusuf might have felt it was too tight, but against the overwhelming wave of regret that was trying to drown him he felt Nicolò’s arms around him like a lifeline.

Nicolò hushed Yusuf and rubbed his hand up and down Yusuf’s bare back.

“It’s alright, Yusuf. I promise,” Nicolò kissed the top of Yusuf’s head as he failed to hold back another sob. “You did get me out of there. I don’t know if I would have the strength to escape without the knowledge that you were waiting for me back home.”

Yusuf nodded. He knew Nicolò was right, it was simply a lot to take in all at once. He remained locked in Nicolò’s warm embrace until his tears ceased falling and his breathing evened out.

“So what became of this friend?” Yusuf asked as he sat back, wiping his eyes. “Quỳnh, was it?”

Nicolò chuckled at Yusuf’s not so subtle change of subject.

“I sent her to find Andromache, to inform you that I was back,” he said. “She, uh- she looks a little less road weary than I do.”

Yusuf playfully poked at Nicolò, “this does make you look like you belong in the wilderness.”

Nicolò nudged the finger away and gave him a flirtatious glare.

“Raised by wolves, I think,” Yusuf said thoughtfully.

Nicolò pushed him back onto the bed. Yusuf laughed and put one hand behind his head.

“So she thinks you are, what? Waiting for her in an inn in the city?”

“Something like that,” Nicolò said. He moved up the bed slightly to sit cross legged next to Yusuf’s hips. A small grin appeared on his face when he added, “I was supposed to wait for her to bring you to me, but I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m so glad you didn’t,” Yusuf said. He grabbed Nicolò’s hand and rubbed a thumb over it. “We already had enough time apart. I will take every extra hour that I can.”

Nicolò hummed and leaned over to kiss Yusuf. Yusuf pulled Nicolò down onto him. He pressed his leg between Nicolò’s, which he thrust down on to.

He could already feel them both growing hard once more.

“Yusuf-” Nicolò breathed out.

He was cut off when the door to Yusuf’s bedchamber flew open and Andromache came rushing into the room.

“Yusuf!” She shouted, “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

She stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of the two naked men in front of her. Yusuf moved to quickly pull a blanket over the two of them while Nicolò tried not to laugh.

“Nicolò, you’re already here,” Andromache said with a wide smile, one Yusuf didn’t see very often.

“May I assume that Quỳnh found you?” Nicolò asked, still stifling laughter.

“You may,” Andromache said. Her smile faltered a little and she looked at the door behind her. “I should probably leave you to it then. Would you like me to inform anyone else of Sir Nicolò's return?”

“Not just yet,” Yusuf replied, “I think I’d like to keep Nicolò to myself for at least a few hours.”

“Could you see that Quỳnh is given a place to stay?” Nicolò requested just as Andromache was about to shut the door. “I owe her quite a debt.”

“Of course,” Andromache nodded her head to Nicolò and then Yusuf. She turned to leave once more before she said, “Nicolò.”

“Yes?” he responded.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

She smiled at him before closing the door.

Nicolò finally let himself dissolve into a fit of laughter and put his hands over his eyes. When he finally caught his breath, he yawned.

“We should go to bed,” Yusuf said, gathering Nicolò into his arms.

“Well, you already fed me, I suppose it is the next logical course of action.”

“Are you still hungry? I could send for some food,” Yusuf said quickly.

Nicolò laughed sleepily, “no, no. I’m fine. We will have a large breakfast in the morning.”

Yusuf sighed contently as Nicolò nuzzled against him, his exhaustion seemed to be finally catching up with him. Yusuf felt the pull to sleep as well, he was emotionally drained at the very least.

Yusuf’s eyes drifted closed but he jerked back awake almost instantly. For a moment he worried he had dreamed the whole thing, but his knight was still there, resting against him.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf said.

“Yes, my love?” Nicolò replied.

“I’m glad you’re back too,” Yusuf said. He was at a loss for words, but echoing Andromache’s seemed to suit him just fine.

“As am I, my prince,” Nicolò whispered into the crook of Yusuf’s neck.

_ My prince _ . The words shocked him. It had been so long since anyone had called him that. Why would they? He was a king now. He had requested years ago that Nicolò not call him my king until they were wed. He was surprised he remembered. He should not have been though, Nicolò always listened and cared about what people told him, and despite whatever Nicolò had gone through, this was still his Nicolò

“Go to sleep, Yusuf,” Nicolò whispered, “I can feel you worrying.”

“What if this is all a dream and I wake up tomorrow with you de- gone once more?”

“This is not a dream,” Nicolò said.

“I know,” Yusuf said, nodding. And he did know that but he still couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to the possibility that he was making all this up.

“I love you,” Nicolò finally said.

“And I, you,” Yusuf said. He tried not to think about what he was saying as a goodbye just in case, but it was still in the back of his mind. “I love you so much, Nicolò.”

Nicolò rolled onto his back, gently pulling Yusuf with him. Yusuf went gladly and draped himself practically on top of Nicolò

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nicolò said softly. He ran his hand over Yusuf’s hair in a soothing motion, “but now you know that I can’t disappear without waking you, even if I wanted to.”

Yusuf nodded. His mind was still racing, but he knew things would be alright. Even if this was a dream he would be forever grateful for this one last day with Nicolò.

It wasn’t a dream, though. Nicolò said it wasn’t. Yusuf knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t help but still be scared, though.

Nicolò stayed awake, stroking his back and smoothing out his hair. Yusuf focused on the feeling of his fiancé’s hands on him and between one breath and the next, Yusuf fell asleep in the arms of his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See???  
> I told you everything would be ok!!


	24. Epilogue

Yusuf and Nicolò were married on August first, 1450, exactly fourteen years after Nicolò first pulled Yusuf into the garden in Paris and bravely kissed a prince he thought he could never have.

The wedding was large but in amongst the throng were the people who mattered most. Sébastien and Nile, Andromache, Quỳnh, Yusuf's mother and sisters, even Nicolò’s parents were able to make it.

They began their marriage on a high note, no conflicts in the kingdom, peace in the surrounding lands and a court full of people who seemed to love Nicolò as much as they loved Yusuf, if not a little more due to his quiet nature making it less likely that he would talk back to people.

Nicolò took to his new role as consort quickly. Yusuf was eager to give Nicolò more and more responsibilities. Responsibilities that went far beyond what was expected of a king or queen consort, but Yusuf knew Nicolò hated being idle. Yusuf selfishly preferred having his husband nearby while he worked, even if he was equally absorbed in some task or another.

Nicolò often teased that Yusuf was making up for all the time they had been forced to spend apart by not wanting to let him out of his sight. Yusuf laughed, but he also knew there was more than a kernel of truth in the statement.

As time passed the two men fell into an easy partnership. Yusuf was truly happy with his life and being able to have Nicolò in his bed every night certainly helped with that.

\---

The world moved on, steady and unyielding, and there was always another war. 

Just over a year after they married, the kings of Tunisia received reports of an army of Nicolò’s countrymen marching on a holy city in the east, and the knight knew he could not sit by and let it happen.

Yusuf resisted with everything he had.

_ “Of course I am sending troops to help defend our allies, thousands of soldiers are set to leave within the week.” _

_ “Nicolò, you are one man, you will not be missed on the front lines.” _

_ “It’s only been a year and I can’t lose you again.” _

Nicolò had fucked Yusuf slowly and lovingly that night, wanting his husband to be absolutely secure in how much he loved him.

Nicolò of course had his own arguments.

_ “I can’t sit here, Yusuf. Besides, we’ve been through worse than this- longer than this.” _

_ “I will be safe with Andromache and Quỳnh.” _

_ “I’m a king now, beloved. I hardly think you, or any of your advisors and lords would let me go unprotected.” _

Nicolò left on a crisp fall morning.

Yusuf knew he was being unreasonably grumpy as Nicolò checked his saddle himself- even after being told repeatedly that it had been seen to already by an attendant.

Andromache and Quỳnh stood a ways off, seeing to their own horses and speaking with the ten hand picked guards that were also accompanying his husband. Yusuf had wanted twenty, Nicolò had wanted none, but the compromise at least saw his husband with some form of protection and not traveling alone.

“Please promise me you will be careful,” Yusuf said from where he stood back watching Nicolò strap his sword to the saddle.

Nicolò shot him a small grin, he really was far too excited to be leaving again.

“I promise to make more of an effort not to get captured this time.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Yusuf said. His stomach had been in knots all morning, and he knew he was not hiding it well at all. “I appreciate you trying to lighten the mood, but I refuse to be happy about you leaving.”

Nicolò’s jaw clenched slightly before he gave Yusuf a softer look and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I will be alright.” Nicolò leaned his forehead against Yusuf’s before continuing. “You and I both know that I will likely see no actual battle-”

“So you agree you’re not needed? Wonderful, now please come back to our room and let me suck your cock. Then we can never speak of this awful plan again.”

“Yusuf,” Nicolò said, voice still quiet, “even if I don’t fight, I think we both know that having someone there with the army as high ranking as I am is useful.”

Yusuf wanted to say that he  _ did not know anything of the sort _ , but he knew he was being petulant. So instead he scoffed and said nothing.

“I am also knowledgeable in the ways of our enemy, I’ve fought with them and know the way their leaders think. I know this is hard, but this is a good choice for the kingdom.”

Yusuf nodded to himself, finally wrapping his arms around his husband, returning the hug.

“This all just feels too familiar. We’ve been here so many times before and I thought-” Yusuf took a deep breath, “I thought we had put this behind us.”

Nicolò gave Yusuf a tight squeeze before stepping back, keeping his hands on Yusuf’s shoulders.

“Do you remember what it was like the last two times I left for war?”

“I remember crying myself to sleep for nights on end-”

“No, do you remember what it looked like? What it smelled like? The sound the battalion of soldiers made when we all left at once?”

Yusuf felt the old sting of guilt in his chest at not being able to make it to Genova to bid his love farewell either time he had been forced to march to war. “You know that I don’t.”

“Well then you will not understand how utterly different this send off is.”

Nicolò gave Yusuf’s shoulders a squeeze before grabbing one of his hands and turning to gesture at the group of soldiers standing with Andromache and Quỳnh.

“Those people are all coming with me with the sole purpose of keeping me safe. You are sending Andromache, Yusuf. She alone would be enough. Quỳnh and I walked thousands of miles, just the two of us. I am well protected. I wasn’t before, but I am now.”

Nicolò glanced sideways at Yusuf for a moment before continuing.

“The last time I marched for war I was one of thousands of nameless soldiers, and now that I have the power to think of the people we send into battle as more than just that, I’m going to. I know I cannot protect every individual soldier from the horrors of war, but I do know what it’s like to sleep in the mud and be expected to wake up to march every morning for days on end. I have value to give to this campaign, even if I no longer get to fight.”

Yusuf squeezed Nicolò’s hand and sighed. “I know you are right.” He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I suppose I just thought that after waiting for so long to have you I would be able to be selfish and never let you go again.” He shook his head trying to blink back tears that were gathering at the corners of his eyes. “That’s not fair to you, though.”

“Hey,” Nicolò said, turning to put his palms on either side of Yusuf’s face and force him to look at him. “You have me, Yusuf. You aren’t losing me. We just spent more days together -in a row- than the total number of days we were together in the previous fourteen years combined.” He brushed his thumb under Yusuf’s eye just as a treacherous tear slipped onto his cheek.

“I know,” Yusuf said after a moment. He placed a hand over one of Nicolò’s and turned his face toward it and lightly kissed the inside of his wrist.

“Will you be alright?” Nicolò asked.

Yusuf didn’t trust himself to answer without crying and making Nicolò feel more guilty than he already was.

“You know I’m going to miss you too, right?” Nicolò asked and then the dam broke. Yusuf gasped brokenly and he felt tears streaming down his face.

He pressed his face into Nicolò’s shoulder and cried as his husband’s hands softly rubbed up and down his back.

“My king?” Andromache’s voice cut through Yusuf’s muffled sobs. Both men looked up and toward her. “This is ridiculously confusing, Nicolò is who I am speaking to.”

“Yes?” Nicolò responded as Yusuf hid his face again, trying to memorize the way his husband smelled.

“We need to leave.”

“Alright.”

Yusuf tensed but he knew this was inevitable.

“I love you,” Yusuf said, trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

“I love you too,” Nicolò said softly in response. He briefly tightened the hug, gave Yusuf a chaste kiss and then he was on his horse and slowly moving away before he really processed what was happening.

He was so wrapped up in his own fear he hadn’t said goodbye properly.

“Sir knight,” Yusuf called out as they were about to exit the palace grounds.

“Yes, my prince?” Nicolò turned and called back, flashing a smile at him.

“Write to me?” Yusuf asked.

“Of course,” Nicolò said. His smile softened and he gave Yusuf a look that could only be described as pure adoration, and he rode out of the gate.

**\---**

November 22nd 1451

My king,

Things should be easier now.

Being the king consort and leading an army is certainly different than being a nameless knight, if nothing else.

The biggest ease, I think, will come in being able to send and receive letters while I am away (something tells me you will not be able to resist ordering me home much sooner than the previous times I have been called to war).

Andromache and Quỳnh are incorrigible and refuse to listen to me unless it suits them. Though they at least wait until we are in private to contradict me, which I appreciate. I believe you are correct that Andromache has met her match in Quỳnh and we will likely see them enter into a marriage contract once we return home.

Other than the two of them though, the soldiers seem willing to follow my lead.

May I boast to you, oh my dear husband, and say that I think I am well suited for command? I feel at ease being in control of my own destiny for once in my life and I know that I will put the needs of my men above any self important goals- something I never felt from my superiors. I hope the men feel that they are not nameless swords to me. I will not risk their lives needlessly.

Please do not take this to mean I do not miss you, but it is easier to be away from you this time than it has been in the past. The year we spent together before I left and the years we have ahead of us help soften the ache I feel- an ache I know all too well, but one that I am not afraid will bury me the way it has in the past.

Try not to worry too much while I am gone. I expect I will not receive a reply from you for around two months given the length of time it should take my letter to return home to you and yours to be sent to me. Two months between letters will be hard, but it is so much better than two years with no word.

Until I receive a response from you I will try my best to uphold the trust you have put in me to lead your countrymen.

I love you.

I often feel like my words fall flat (even though I know you would say they are perfect), I have always felt like I best express myself through my actions. I walked across the entire world to return to you, so I hope you feel my love, Yusuf. 

Your knight,

Nicolò

**\---**

_ December 28th 1451 _

_ Nicolò, my husband and the absolute love of my life, _

_ I am so glad to hear you are enjoying your new position. I may be the slightest bit biased, but I truly do believe that you and Andromache are the absolute best people to lead my army. _

_ Please remember, or at least remind Andromache, that you are only being sent to help defend the lands threatened by the armies of the north. Do not put our countrymen (or indeed yourselves) into harm's way unnecessarily. I am hoping the mere presence of a large army will dissuade attacks, and maybe even send our enemies home with little to no bloodshed. _

_ It is times like these that I am extremely glad I was able to bring Sébastien and Nile together. I would not wish for her to still be tangled up in the politics of Rome. She is a skilled warrior and if she had returned home I worry that she would be on the opposite side of this conflict from us- through no fault of her own. _

_ I already miss you terribly (it is true that this separation is easier than previous ones- but only just!). I hope that I can bring you home to me sooner rather than later… Would you hate me if I proposed a time limit of a year? I know you are set on being an active participant in defending our allies, but perhaps once you have established your expectations you could return to me and leave Andromache in charge? If only for a few months. _

_ Who knows, maybe things will not last long enough for you to even need to return early. _

_ Of course I feel your love, my Nicolò. And you are right that I would argue that you express yourself beautifully. I do not need to do anything more than look in your eyes to see how much you love me. Though yes- escaping prison and walking thousands of miles to return to me is rather bold proof. I never needed that, though. All I need is your eyes on mine (once you are home, at least. For now writing “I love you” will have to tide me over). _

_ Things here are mostly dull. I almost wish I had come with you, though I know it would have been foolish and my advisors would never have allowed it. I just wish I had something more to do with my time. I have so many hours left in the day without you to fill them. Especially at night. _

_ Do you find it difficult to take your pleasure in the midst of a military camp as you did when we were young men? I would hate to think you are neglecting your needs. If I were there I would have you screaming my name every night.  _

_ I think people would be pleased to know their kings are so ridiculously in love. Please be sure to think of me the next time you take yourself in hand, I would like to hear my name echoing all the back here in Tunis. _

_...sometimes I read back what I have written to you and wonder why you put up with me. _

_ I suppose I am lucky that you love me as much as you do. _

_ I look forward to your next letter, I should only need to write one more before I can send for you to come home to me. _

_ I miss you like the sun misses the flower in the dead of winter. Keep yourself safe for me until I can see spring return to my life with your return home. _

_ I love you, I’ll never love another, _

_ Yusuf _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it!!! Thank you for reading this whole thing???  
> I hope you enjoyed it <3
> 
> Pour one out for Isa and I, and the MULTIPLE aneurisms we had over lie/lay/laying/lying... we barely made it through lol
> 
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://scimitar-and-longsword.tumblr.com)


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